Serpent Skins
by V for Voldemort
Summary: This is a redo fic for the entire HP series starting from book 1. What would have happened if Dumbledore's Letter to the Dursley's never made it? What if no one knew where Harry potter was? Would our savior be treated differently, would he see deceit in the Light's abrupt attitude change when the truth was reviled? Will eventually be Slash and Het Pairings and warnings inside.
1. Dark Water Chapter 1

Ok so the rating on this story is quite high just to be safe. There will eventually be a SLASH THREESOME of Harry/Draco/Voldemort but not in this book or for quite a few to come. There will also be a HET Severus/Hermione pairing but again not for a while. Really this is PRE ROMANCE because they are 11 boys and girls. Dumbledore bashing doesn't really start until book two or three as my current plans are going, Ron bashing will commence shortly. Also I've changed the orders of the books slightly to match my fancy!

Heads up before you start reading I've put these chapters up but as I am in my final year of my DEGREE (ARRRGGGG) please don't expect lot's of regular updates!

Also I think Fanfiction is trying to Americanise my writing so it could be a combination of the two spellings.

I've tried to Spell Check Grammar Check and all that stuff but like I said as this is my final year and i have no beta it will not be perfect, maybe if anyone is interested in the job at the end of this year then I will look into it.

Ok I think that it so on with the show!

This Chapter Word Count- 16,077

Serpent Skin Chapter 1

Dark Water

A feeling of warmth, of being held in soft surroundings and dreaming peaceful innocent things held the child in sleep. It was only when the light started slowly building up that dark eyelashes flickered open to reveal curious pale green eyes taking in the surrounding sights, smells and sounds. There was a creaking sound as something changed in the child's line of sight and then there was a scream; it's was so panicked and terrified that it managed to pull a sudden cry from the child as well. An abrupt jerking motion caused the child to whimper and then the sound of voices caught his attention. The voices kept talking and even though they were not soothing the child's eyes started to slowly fall shut again, the dreams that flitted through the child's unconscious mind this time were not so peaceful.

When consciousness captured the child once again eyes flickered open but this time a wale immediately escaped the child's mouth upon taking in his surroundings. There were shouts, loud, angry and then the jerking motion again, a movement far rougher than any the child had felt before until a cold darkness that is not sleep surrounded the child like heavy air. The whimpered cries of the child went unheard; no relief from the hunger pains arrived and so sleep was once again embraced, the only way to conserve energy as the noises and shouts from outside the darkness continued.

The third time the brown eyes opened it was to the darkness of the night, to the feeling of moving forward while not moving at all, feeling sick and odd growling noises. When the growling noises stopped so did the feeling of movement; confused the child did not cry but simply stared and waited for something to happen. Suddenly the child was being swung around again, picked up and then the night sky appeared above beautiful and clear.

There were sounds, a gruff furious voice and then the feeling of flying through cold air until the small body hit icy water. Breathing became impossible as the child is pulled down into the depths of cold, wet, darkness and then every sensation creases to nothing.

"Emma, stay close to us dear," Emma's mother called as she ran along the small dirt path in Hyde Park.

"I'll be fine mum," she called with a smile as she turned and ran over to a low hanging branch where she thought she could see a squirrel. As she neared the branch her ears picked up and she could hear something, it sounded like whimpering. Quickly rounding some of the bigger trees Emma cautiously approached where the sound was coming from and found a small figure curled into the base of the tree.

Completely soaked from head to foot and shivering violently was the most horrific sight Emma's young mind had ever seen. The pale flesh of the child before her was riddled with ugly deep purple and yellow bruises, the child's lips were a pale blue and Emma was surprised she could even hear the whimpers over the sound of the child's chattering teeth. The child didn't seem to notice Emma as she approached; hair shining all the colours of a dying sun was plastered all over the small child's head and the child was curled up so tightly in a ball Emma could see the child's knuckles turning white.

Stopping about a metre away from the child Emma crouched down and said quietly, in the softest tone she could possibly manage, "Hello?"

The response was immediate, the child stopped shivering, and with slow precise movements started to uncurl. As the child turned to face her large green eyes opened and pinned her with a look of confusion and mistrust.

Ten years later

Professor Albus Perceval Wulfric Brian Dumbledore felt a wave of satisfaction wash over him as he made his way down the corridor towards Gryffindor tower, his destination the office of one Professor Minerva McGonagall the deputy headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This was the year, this was the year that all his planning would come together, this was the final moment, in a matter of minutes the spell would be set and the letters would be sent. He sighed, of course, one of the letters would not reach its recipient, of that he was sure, however he had to try the conventional way first before he sent someone to fetch the child. He would send Hagrid of course, he could think of no one more loyal and trustworthy.

Taking a left he finally got to Minerva's office and with a cheery hum knocked on the door. When the door opened however it was not to a placid smiling woman as he had expected, but to a frantic wide-eyed witch who nearly wretched his painstakingly long beard out of its very sensitive roots in her haste to pull him inside.

"Albus," Minerva began in a frantic voice, her Scottish accent becoming more pronounced in her anxiety, "I don't understand what's wrong, it's never happened before, he's not on the list!"

"Minerva my dear," Albus exclaimed in a surprised voice, "I'm afraid I do not understand, who is not on the list?" For there could only be one list Minerva was talking about, and that was the list of children destined to start Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the coming autumn term.

"Harry Potter!" Minerva practically shouted as she gestured wildly to a list floating above her desk, "I was looking through it, just a quick scan as you know I do every year but when I got to wear his name should be it was not there!"

The temperature in the room dropped, the thin summer robes Minerva was wearing no longer able to keep her warm as she felt a chill start to creep along her skin, "What?" Albus asked in the low calm tone that struck through Minerva like an iced blade; most of the time the fact that the man standing in front of her was arguably the most powerful wizard alive seemed to slip into the background, his power seeming to fade into the background of his cheerful grandfather like aura; but then there were those instances, like now, which served to remind her of its existence.

"He's not on there Albus," she whispered not daring to meet the ice blue eyes that were staring down at her, as if this was her fault, as if one flick of the wrist she was going to be cast into oblivion. "Like I said, when I got to where his name ought to be he was not there."

Without a word Albus strode over to the desk, grabbing the list from the air to look through it himself and just as Minerva had stated, when he got the part of the list where Harry Potter's name should have been his name was not there. Taking a breath to calm himself Albus went straight to the top of the list, reading and absorbing each name with a meticulous eye, hoping desperately against hope that for some reason _Harry Potter_ would be written elsewhere on the list.

As his mind started to panic Albus stopped, this would not help him, with a flick of his wrist he sent the list back to McGonagall's desk, "Send out all the other letters Minerva, I shall go and find out what is wrong."

Petunia Dursley hummed as she worked in the kitchen rolling out the pastry to make blueberry tarts for her dear Duddikins when he got home from school. When a knock at the door came she quickly popped the tarts into the oven and went to answer it. What greeted her on the front porch however made the happy little smile that graced her face fade into obscurity and fear became etched into every wrinkle on her horse shaped face.

"Hello Petunia, it has been a long time," Albus Dumbledore greeted, the cheerful lilt to his voice and happy sparkle that was normally a characteristic of his eyes noticeably absent.

"I suppose you better come in then," Petunia replied in the bravest voice she could muster, "Lord knows you probably won't take no for an answer anyway and I was expecting this visit a lot sooner." Moving aside to allow her guest to enter she meekly followed him into the lounge, back ramrod straight as she watched him settle into one of the comfy armchairs.

"Please sit Petunia," Albus said in a hard tone, "I insist." and with a flick of his wand the chair behind Petunia came skidding forward knocking her legs out from under her. "Now, where is he?"

"I… I I I… I don't know," Petunia stammered out and cringed backward as pale blue eyes so completely cold she was afraid pieces would start to chip off continued to stare at her.

"Petunia, normally my patience is known as one of my characteristic traits but at this moment it is wearing very thin, I'm going to need you to expand on what you are telling me if you please."

Petunia gulped, her eyes started flicking round erratically, her subconscious trying frantically to find an escape route, "We found him, he was on our doorstep and I knew immediately who he was, I remember the picture that Lily sent me of him even though Vernon burned it. We took him into the house and we we we –"

"Stop!" Startled Petunia looked up into Albus's eyes and was just able to get out of startled gasp as he tore into her mind.

_Going to fetch the milk from the porch, Petunia opened the door with a small smile on her face only to look down and scream, there on the doorstep was a child with deep midnight black hair wrapped in a small blue blanket and snuggled into a basket, a child about the same age as her own dear son. The child had woken when she screamed and was now wailing at the top of his lungs; Vernon came running then and at the sight of his doorstep quickly grabbed the basket pulling the startled Petunia inside and dumping the child on the kitchen table._

_"It's him isn't it Petunia," he said in a low voice, it's that freaky child of your sisters, they've dumped him on us because his freakish parents are dead. I heard them you know, muttering all day yesterday, it's why I asked you what his name was when I came home."_

_"Dead? What do you mean by dead Vernon?" Petunia whispered, fear clouding her eyes._

_Vernon felt almost sad for his wife as he watched her crumple into the kitchen seat, "She's gone Petunia, your sister is gone, they were all talking about, she and her husband were murdered and now they've dumped that… thing with us."_

_Petunia glanced fearfully over at the child and then anger started to surface as she thought about her sister, "I don't want it!" She exclaimed, "I had enough freakishness in my life with my sister, I finally got rid of her for good when she ran off with the waste of space Potter, I don't want or need anything to do with that!" She was shouting by the end of her speech, causing the child to start wailing again._

_With a snarl Vernon once again grabbed the basket and shoved it into the cupboard under the stairs, "The question Petunia, is what we're going to do with it now."_

_"I don't know Vernon," she whispered fearfully, glancing at the cupboard where whimpers from the child could still be heard coming through the door, "what can we do?"_

_With a hard glint in his eye Vernon said in an undertone, "We could get rid of it, no one would–"_

_"No Vernon, they would find out, they have ways of finding out, they make you tell secrets, they invade your mind, Vernon we can't!"_

_Vernon seemed taken aback for a moment before his face hardened the look of determination Petunia could not understand, with a nod Vernon turned around, stomped out of the room and up the stairs. For the rest of the day Petunia was on edge, she ignored the crying from under the stairs until it stopped, kissed her husband on the cheek as he went to work and took Dudley shopping for a new toy. When she and Dudley got back later that day she started to cook dinner and waited for her husband to come home._

_They sat silently at the table that night; even Dudley, smart boy that he was was able to tell that making noise just then was not a good thing. Over dinner Petunia came to the conclusion that they had to just accept the child into their home, but later when she tried to retrieve the boy from the cupboard Vernon stopped her._

_"No Petunia," he said the slight shake of his head as he held her wrist inches from the cupboards handle, "we are tired, leave it there until morning and then we shall deal with it, okay?"_

_"But… but Vernon, it might – we have to… we can't –"_

_"No Petunia," Vernon repeated, "leave it there until morning and we shall deal with this whole mess then. We are not able to contact the fre – them to take it back so they obviously meant us to have it even if they didn't have the common decency to leave a note explaining what they wanted. They have left us to do this all on our own and we shall because as much of a freak as your sister and her… husband were that child may still have a chance if he stays with us. Come Petunia, get Dudley and we shall go to bed and deal with this in the morning."_

_Vernon was so eerily calm, in the way he had never been before that Petunia felt she had to do as he wished. _

_The next day that calm was still surrounding Vernon like mist, Petunia cooked breakfast and set it in front of him in unusual silence. It was only after he had finished eating that Vernon spoke, "Petunia, go get it out."_

_Petunia still wary of her husband's mood slowly rose from the table and went over to the cupboard; opening the door slowly she gasped drawing her husband's attention._

_"What is it Petunia?" He asked, hurrying over, only for his eyes to widen at the empty cupboard that lay before them. "They must have taken it back," he said at last. Closing the cupboard with a decisive snap Vernon strode back into the kitchen and made himself a cup of tea._

Albus withdrew from the woman's mind but all the same kept her gaze locked on his. Studying her face it was obvious she knew what he had done but he didn't care, she was a muggle, what could she do?

"Petunia," he asked in a very soft voice, "did you or Vernon ever talk about what happened? And bare in mind, I will know if you are lying to me."

Petunia shook her head, "We never mentioned it after that day, I tried a few timesbut Vernon was adamant that one of your lot had simply taken him back."

Albus shook his head, "No, I left the child here in your care, for him to be raised by you until such a time that he was ready to re-enter our world. There is one thing that puzzles me however, nowhere in your memories did I see the letter that I left you, where is it Petunia, it's very important."

Petunia once again shook her head, "I don't know what you are talking about, maybe it simply blew away."

Albus's eyes narrowed as he stared into the woman's eyes trying to determine what really happened; but no, Petunia was telling the truth, as far as she knew no letter had been left with Harry Potter that night. This was not good, that letter was critical… had been critical to his plans. Now he had to rethink… everything… if he didn't things would start falling apart and the first step towards that was finding out what happened to Harry Potter. With a decisive nod to himself Albus turned and made his way out of the house and across the street, he would come back to the Dursley's later, he was not through with Vernon

Mrs Maggs was a lady in her late fifties who had lost her husband some twenty five years ago to cancer. In life Mr Maggs had been a rather successful banker and as such had bought a very large London townhouse which had consisted of five bedrooms, a kitchen, study, one dining room and one reception room. After the death of her husband Mrs Maggs had felt rather lonely in the large house; unwilling to sell the house that held so many fond memories she had become a short-term foster parent.

"He's not a problem child, at least not in the normal way," she said to the small oddly dressed gentleman in front of her, it was strange she didn't even know why she was divulging such intimate information about one of her children, "most of it I think, stems from the fact that he hasn't been adopted.

By all rights because he was so young, no more than two years old when he was found, he should have been snapped up by any parents looking to adopt, but he hasn't and that's one of the reasons why he ended up here. I looked over his file when he first came to me and I noticed that until the age of four he was only at one foster home, it specialised in young children. It really was a terrible tragedy, the house burned down, there were eight foster children in that house, he was the only one to survive… From the time of the fire till the age of six he had been in seven different foster homes already and that was when he first started going into homes for challenging youths."

The man in front of her nodded, a sad frown covering his face as he asked, "How many foster homes has he been in?"

"This will be his twenty third, for some reason he never seems to go to long-term foster homes or the ones that he does go to get rid of him soon afterwards." Mrs Maggs said with a sigh, "I specialise in problem children, children that come from very abusive homes and cannot get along in other foster homes. When I looked at the number of foster homes Mordred had been through I was expecting to have a really hard time with him, but I could never find a reason why he was classed as a real problem."

"So he's not like other children you've had through this house then?" The man in front of her asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.

"It's strange, most of the children I get through here are rather… violent, they swear, punch walls and people alike, skip school, everything that you it would expect from a typical problem child," Mrs Maggs paused, wondering how she should word what she next wanted to say, "I knew Mordred was different the moment he held out his hand to me politely and told me his name. The first few days I saw hardly anything of him, but I thought nothing of it because this was a new house to him and he was just getting used to it. I thought he must have been getting up early to eat breakfast and then disappearing to his room, so one morning about three days after he had arrived I went down early as well to catch him and try to have a chat with him.

It was about half past six when I saw him coming down the stairs and he smiled at me. It was all going perfectly well, we had a lovely breakfast together, even if it was only cereal and chatting to the boy I realised how lovely he was, but then… when he finished his breakfast, instead of going up the stairs and back to his room the way I thought he would, he tried to leave the house. It was then I realised why I hadn't seen him in all the time he'd been there, he hadn't been up in his room, he'd been out somewhere, probably wandering the streets, I was so worried. I told him off for trying to sneak out and said he was under my supervision, that he was just a child and the streets were a dangerous place for him to go on his own.

I don't really remember much after that, I remember him looking into my eyes and then waking up in my bedroom. It took me a while to figure out what had happened but when I did I was frantic, I grabbed his file and looked through it trying to find something that would indicate where he might have gone but I couldn't find anything! I called foster care placement and they said this was the usual occurrence for him, one of the reasons he was labelled a problem, but they said he always came back and for me not to worry. I couldn't understand how calm they were about it but like they said he did come back around about eleven o'clock that night. I was so scared and angry, I had been worrying all day; I shouted, a lot, when I had finished he simply said that I didn't need to worry about him, he did this all the . time, so calm and polite I felt rather bad for shouting. He turned around and went upstairs, from then on he went out when he wanted came back when he wanted nothing I could do or say would stop him from doing it, even locked doors and windows have no effect. He's always incredibly polite, does any chores I ask him too, but he's always very detached."

The man in front of her looked slightly upset by her comment as she had predicted, "So what are the children's reaction to him, surely in a house such as this fighting is a problem?"

"True in a house like this fighting is a huge problem but to Mordred they seem almost indifferent, it's a sort of wary acceptance of him. The other children seem to stay away from him and he, out of respect for their distance stays out of the house as much as possible."

At this comment, the small smile that had crept back onto the man's face disappeared to be replaced by a worried frown, "Where does he go when he's not in the house? Surely a 10-year-old child needs to be supervised by an adult most of the time?"

"I have tried numerous times to find out where he goes but somehow he is able to avoid my every attempt at following him," Mrs Maggs sighed.

"Very well," the man nodded, "would it be agreeable if we went and saw him now?"

"Hello Mordred?" Mrs Maggs called softly from outside Mordred's room as she knocked the door.

"One moment Mrs Maggs," Mordred replied, quickly getting up from his bed and going over to unlock the door to his room, "what can I –?" The question went unfinished as Mordred spied the stranger standing behind her. The little man was no more than four foot tall, a tiny bit shorter than Mordred himself. He had a short Santa Claus style white beard, a slightly out of date dark blue Velvet suit on and the biggest smile Mordred had ever seen.

"Mordred this is Mr Flitwick and he is here to see you," Mrs Maggs said with a nervous smile back at the little man before she stepped away and let Mr Flitwick through, "I'll leave you to do to get acquainted," she said giving Mordred an encouraging smile over Mr Flitwick's shoulder.

Mr Flitwick stepped forward and held his hand out to Mordred, "Pleasure to meet you Mordred," he smiled and Mordred remembering his manners as he shook the man's hand then invited Mr Flitwick to sit on the chair by his desk.

"The pleasure is all mine Mr Flitwick," he replied placing a warm smile over his face, one that he had perfected over the years of being interviewed by prospective parents, "may I enquire as to your visit? The way Mrs Maggs introduced you, it made it seem like you had specifically come here to see me." There was no need to beat around the bush, if this odd Mr Flitwick had come here to take him to a new Foster home, Mordred wanted to know outright. He could see no other reason why the man would come to the Foster home looking for him especially, someone looking to adopt would look round everyone, not just him.

Flitwick smile didn't falter as he chuckled, "You're a straightforward young man aren't you? Very well, I shall take the direct approach, I am a Professor at a special school for a certain type of gifted young children and I'm here to offer you a place at that school."

Mordred's eyes widened slightly, his intelligence had never been one of the things that drew any attention to him, he made sure of that, at least no one that hadn't been in his room would know. While it was true that other children would interact with each other, run around and play tag, Mordred found them boring, he would walk around the edge of the playground reading everything from on from science fiction to actual science and back again; though he would make sure to keep the covers well hidden, it wouldn't do for the teachers to see a 10-year-old reading degree level physics books. On the other hand maybe it had been Mrs Maggs that had been in his room had alerted this gentleman to his intelligence, she was easily sharp enough to notice. Stuffed with books, all second-hand from charity shops and from libraries of course, his room was full to bursting; the condition of a book did not matter to Mordred, the contents was his only interest.

"What kind of special school?" Mordred asked with a raised eyebrow, opportunities like this didn't come around for children like him; penniless, he was rather hesitant to take the man's offer at face value, there was just a niggling feeling in the back of his head that made Mordred think the man was holding something back.

Flitwick's smile if possible grew even wider, "Mordred, have you ever had anything unexpected happened to you, something out of the ordinary that just couldn't possibly be explained within the rational laws of physics?"

Curiosity piqued, Mordred leaned forward from where he had settled himself on his bed. There were a few instances he could think of to fit into an answer to Mr Flitwick's question, but he wanted the teacher to explain further before he divulged anything. He had only tried a handful of times to tell someone about his abilities because each and every time at the mere mention of something like his abilities being possible the person had simply scoffed turned away, "What do you mean by that Sir, are you speaking of Newton's Three Fundamental Laws of Physics?

Flitwick laughed again, a jolly sound that seemed to reverberate from his chest and vibrate throughout his will body, "Oh my boy, if you do not end up in my house I will be incredibly surprised. I've never in all my years of teaching had a ten-year-old respond to my question with one of their own about Isaac Newton, I bet very few of your classmates present and future even know the name Isaac Newton."

Mordred gave Mr Flitwick a slightly nervous chuckle in response, "I read a lot of books Mr Flitwick, when you mentioned the rational laws of physics my mind automatically jumped to Newton and his theories."

"Well done Mordred, it's that kind of quick mind and search for knowledge that will land you in my house, Ravenclaw, the house of thinkers."

Mordred frowned, "Ravenclaw?" He asked in confusion.

Mr Flitwick's eyes widened comically in his head and Harry was reminded of an owl he had once seen, "Oh my, I seem to have, as the muggles are fond of saying, jumped the gun a bit there," Flitwick chuckled, "The school I work at is called Hogwarts and in Hogwarts there are four different houses, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Gryffindor is the house of the lion, Ravenclaw is the house of the Raven, Slytherin is the house of the snake and Hufflepuff is the house of the Badger, bravery, intellect, cunning and loyalty."

"Those are some very funny names Sir, if you don't mind me saying so," Harry said with a raised eyebrow, he was starting to think that maybe this school wasn't such a good idea, it sounded rather barmy.

Mr Flitwick tilted his head to the side slightly but the smile on his face didn't falter, "Yes, I suppose to an outsider Hogwarts would sound a bit strange, but I assure you young man that it is anything but. I go back to my original question, has anything strange ever happened to you, something you couldn't control, couldn't explain?"

Mordred tilted his head to the side making it look as though he was thinking about it. For a moment he entertained the idea of telling this person, this total stranger about all his different gifts and the strange things that often happened to him, but quickly discarded it, put on a confused mask and brought his eyes met up to meet with Mr Flitwick saying sincerely as he could manage, "No, to be honest Sir nothing really springs to mind."

Mr Flitwick seemed to buy his answer but instead of it discouraging the small man he seemed to get even more excited, "Well well well, when I said you'd be in my house, I was only teasing, now I am not so sure."

"Mr Flitwick, I really must insist on you explaining what you mean," Mordred said, he was getting a little worried about his health being in the same room as this madman.

Flitwick made no verbal response simply smirked jovially at Harry and reached into his coat pocket and drawing out an aged looking letter, "This is your invitation letter to join Hogwarts as a student, read it and then tell me what you think."

Mordred took the letter cautiously and turned it over. The first thing Mordred noticed was his name; it was addressed simply to Mr Mordred Pendragon. No matter how many times he had seen it written down Mordred still felt a smile grace his face, it had been his name as long as he could remember, he had never known his birthday either, or at least he had never known his real birthday but it never really mattered. He loved his name, it was individual and interesting… shaking his head out of his wanderings Mordred looked down at the rest of the address on the letter, it said

_Mr Mordred Pendragon_

_Room Number 5 _

_Smallest Single Room on the Top Floor_

_Westside Foster Home_

_London_

Mordred frowned, how on earth had these people known which number room he was in, let alone its location within the house and its size he had no idea. Giving Flitwick one last curious look Mordred reached over to one of the draws in his desk and pulled out a letter opener. It was a beautiful piece, the blade itself made from a material very closely resembling a abalone shell. The hilt of the dagger was separated from the blade by a large clear diamond about the size of Mordred's eye and was covered with a soft blue suede like material. The whole thing looked fragile but Mordred had found on closer inspection that it was actually incredibly strong. He never had the opportunity to use it before, but he had seen it in a charity shop awhile back and had just had to have it, he couldn't explain in rational terms why he had needed it so badly, simply that it had… called out to him? Was that the right way to describe how Mordred had not physically been able to leave the shop without it, the way it had shone and glowed in his eyes? Mordred had often wondered how it could have ended up in the charity shop and not some antique auction, but as it had no hallmark or any other marking to indicate that the silver or the diamond was real, he supposed it was plausible for someone to mistake it as fake, he didn't.

Before he had the opportunity to use the knife however Mr Flitwick gasped and he seemed to reach for the dagger only to pull his hand away when Mordred moved it behind his back.

"It's one of my most precious possessions Sir, I do not allow anybody to touch it, it took me a great deal of time and effort to get it, please understand." Mordred said with a hard look at Mr Flitwick.

Once the astonishment had cleared from Mr Flitwick's face he smiled in understanding and nodded, "Do not worry Mr Pendragon, I merely… oh it is very exciting," he exclaimed clapping his hands together in delight, "but please I need you to open your letter first before I explain."

Turning his attention back to the letter once more Mordred lifted knife and cut it open. Inside were two sheets of paper, taking the first he started to read-

_Dear Mr. Mordred Pendragon,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your acceptance owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely, _

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Mordred turned from the letter and looked back at Mr Flitwick with a raised eyebrow, "A school of witchcraft and wizardry?" He asked slowly, "You expect me to believe that your some sort of wizard Professor from a magical school that teaches children how to do magic?"

Mr Flitwick chuckled, "I know, it is a rather amazing idea child, but I can assure you every bit of it is true. Can you truly tell me you have never done something strange, out of the ordinary?"

Mordred stared at the man for a second, fear gripping his chest and squeezing all the air out of his lungs; what if this was a trick to get him to admit to all the things he could do? Were they going to cast him off to some insane asylum? With a shake of his head Mordred chuckled, "Wizards and witches, so where's your magic wand then?" He asked sarcastically." If he didn't admit to anything, they couldn't take him away.

Instead of being offended Mr Flitwick (or should he call him Professor Flitwick) simply smiled wider and he once again reached into his dark blue velvet jacket and pulled out a long thin stick, "It's right here!"

Mordred's own eyes went round and he gazed up at the man in front of him in astonishment.

Professor Flitwick turned towards Mordred's desk chuckling at the wide-eyed response. With a slight swish and flick of his wand Mr Flitwick and everything on the desk suddenly started to glow light blue. Seconds later one by one the objects started to levitate off the table and fly around the room. Mordred could only watch in amazement until with one final whizz around the room and another final chuckle from Professor Flitwick the items zoomed back to resume their previous places on Mordred's desk the glow leaving as quickly has it had come.

When Mordred made no move to respond in any way Professor Flitwick explained, "That was a simple spell called the Levitation Charm, normally one would use the incantation Wingardium Leviosa to make the spell work and objects would normally hover. I myself am a Charms _Master_ and so saying the spell in my head and altering my intention with the spell slightly to make the objects on your desk fly around instead of just hover was no great challenge."

Professor Flitwick seemed to allow Mordred a moment to regain his wits and when he did Mordred's eyes fixed onto his dagger and he asked, "So what is this then, it seemed like you recognised it?" He asked… he supposed his new Professor.

"It was not so much that I recognised it, as I recognised it as an object made by a wizard, you see those patterns carved all along the hilt and dagger, to any muggle they would just look like pretty pattern carved into the wood, but most wizards could identify them as runes."

Mordred frowned in confusion as he examined the dagger in his hands, but when the Professor 's word sunk in his eyes shot up to catch Flitwick's, "Runes Prof?" He asked, eyeing the Professor carefully as he made his answer.

"Yes Mr Pendragon, do you see that pattern there?" He asked pointing at the diamond part of the blade where the hilt and blade met, a part that from what Mordred could see, had absolutely no writing or pattern on it whatsoever. Mordred nodded slightly, deciding to find out what his new teacher was going to say before he gave anything away. "Those patterns are what wizards call runes," Professor Flitwick went on with a smile, as he looked at the dagger, "That is a single word in Elder Futhark, the oldest known runic alphabet. Unfortunatly I can't read the language, there is no power in the object, it's not magical and it can do nothing magical, it was probably made as a present to someone, for ornamental purposes only, the saying probably had some significance to the original owner."

Mordred stared thoughtfully at the dagger for a second then looked back down at the letter in his hands, flipping the pages to read the second sheet of paper-

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WHICHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_UNIFORM_

_First-year students will require:_

_ sets of plain work robes (black)_

_ plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_ pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_ winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags._

_COURSE BOOKS_

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

_OTHER EQUIPMENT_

_1 wand_

_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

_1 set glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set brass scales_

_Students may also bring and owl OR a cat OR a toad._

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

Reading through the list of things he had to get Mordred's heart sank slightly, it was obvious he was supposed to buy these things himself, but he had no money of his own with which to do so, "Professor I can't go, I don't have the money to buy any of this," he said quietly, his eyes downcast.

"Don't worry about that young Mr Pendragon, there are trust funds in place for people who do not possess the means to pay for themselves."

Mordred felt a small relieved smile reform on his face which Flitwick returned, "Now," the Professor said with an air of excitement, "we need to schedule a time for you to come with me shopping to buy school supplies." With another flick of his wand a small diary popped into existence in front of him and opened. "I'm busy for the next few days, but I can come and collect you on Saturday we can do some shopping then if that is agreeable with you?" He asked Mordred.

Mordred grinned and nodded.

"It's not him Albus," Fillius Flitwick insisted with a shake of his head, "he looks nothing like the Potter boy, his bone structure is completely different, don't you remember Lily and James performing that silly spell to show what Harry would look like when he was older? Not to mention his hair is blood red for Merlin's sake, Lily's was strawberry blonde; the only thing that's even the slightest bit similar is the shape of his eyes but even they are a different shade of green than Lilly's used to be."

"It must be him Fillius," Albus muttered as he paced up and down his office deep in thought, "he's the only one on the list without parents or a blood relative that can confirm his identity."

Fillius shook his head, "Harry Potter had black hair, pale green eyes and a lightning bolt shaped scar on his head Albus; this boy has nothing in common with Harry Potter. I think you need to accept Albus that Harry Potter may be dead or if he isn't that he's not in Britain any longer."

Albus stopped pacing and looked out the window over the grounds, "I will find him Fillius, I have to."

Fillius nodded, "I know Albus, if he is alive to be found I know you'll find him but in the meantime I suggest you turn your attention back to the school you are supposed to be running as headmaster." With that final piece of advice spoken to Albus's back Fillius turned around and left the office a sad frown on his face as he contemplated the mental state of his friend.

The next few days past incredibly slowly for Mordred, even with a few new books nothing could keep him entertained for long. He just kept thinking about that coming Saturday and by the time it finally arrived and Mordred spotted his soon-to-be teacher from his window he was so excited his magic seemed to forgot about the stairs and all of a sudden he found himself at the front door. After a little disorientation, (he had learned to expect and not question the weird things that happened to him a long time ago) Mordred pulled the front door open and called out a half arsed farewell to a slightly stunned looking Mrs Maggs over his shoulder, shut the door behind him and sprinted the rest of the way down the street to meet a slightly startled and amused looking Professor Flitwick.

"Nice to see you so bright and chipper this early in the morning Mr Pendragon," Professor Flitwick said in amusement, eyeing the small boy.

Mordred grinned, but as his brain finally caught up with what his eyes were seeing, "ProfessorI don't mean to be rude but what are you wearing?" He asked, eyeing Flitwick up and down in confusion.

Flitwick blinked for a moment but then looked down at himself and chuckled with a shake of his head, almost making the pointy green velvet hat he was wearing fall off, "I keep forgetting muggles don't we robes," he gestured down to himself, "They are the fashion of the Wizarding world Mordred. Robes help a wizard or witch to perform magic; it's the same with pointy hats. Magic is all around us," he said gesturing looking around, "it is in every living being and the way robes are shaped helps us to absorb and channel that magic.

Mordred laughed excitedly, pulling his Hogwarts letter out of his pocket, "So where do we go to get all of these things?" He asked, waving the second sheet of his letter around excitedly but then frowned slightly his eyes lighting up again with curiosity, "And what's a muggle?"

Professor Flitwick chuckled and took out his wand, holding it out as one would hold out a thumb when trying to catch a lift. A few seconds passed and nothing happened but then all of a sudden a blur of purple came hurtling round the corner of the street rattling towards Harry and Flitwick at such a speed that Harry was afraid of getting run over. His worry was all for nothing of course as the blur came careening to a stop quite suddenly in front of them. It took a moment the Mordred to figure out what was going on but as his confused mind started to settle he realised he was standing in front of a glowing bright purple tripledecker London bus with the words _Knight Bus_ scrawled messily across the side in big gold letters.

Mordred and Professor Flitwick climbed on board and after being greeted rather mechanically by the conductor, Professor Flitwick told him they were going to a place called The Leaky Cauldron and handed over four odd looking coins he called Sickles. The two settled themselves into a pair of seats and just as Mordred was about to launch into another round of questions the bus lurched into motion and all he could concentrate on trying not to lose his breakfast. Thankfully the ride only took about two minutes to get to their destination and the bus driver was soon breaking incredibly hard causing Harry to fly forward out of his seat and into a rather strategically placed cushion attached to the wall in front of the rows of seats.

Flitwick chuckled all the while as he got up from his own seat and gently took Mordred's arm to guide him off the bus. When the world had stopped spinning Mordred managed to look around and found himself outside a shabby two-storey Tudor house with a sign declaring itself The Leaky Cauldron… in the middle of… actually he didn't know where exactly. The pub was situated somewhat oddly between two incredibly ornate and majestic stone buildings looking out over a river. On the other side a little way down Harry thought he could make out an enormous Ferris wheel which made Mordred assume they were still in London and what he was spying was in fact the London Eye, meaning they were on the back of the Thames.

Mordred was gobsmacked that people just seemed to walk past the pub without even glancing at the shabby exterior, especially while it was surrounded by such strong and elegant looking structures on either side. He voiced his opinion to Flitwick and his soon-to-be Professor explained that there were special spells on it to make muggles ignore it and even if they did manage to see it because of some tiny amount of magic in their blood that they would simply forget about it as soon as they looked away from it.

"What are muggles?" Mordred asked with a frown as Flitwick ushered him that towards the pub.

"Non-magical folk," Flitwick said with a small smile, "people who can't do magic, they don't know about the Wizarding world."

As Mordred entered the pub after Flitwick his eyes widened dramatically for the thousandth time that day; inside the pub was nothing like its exterior. Inside Mordred found himself in a large room with dark wood beams and pillars riddled with carvings that stood like stripes in contrast to the almost luminescent white walls. Large ornate portraits that were moving and talking were hanging on the walls flitting in and out their portraits as they went to talk to their neighbours. Large high windows allowed in the beautiful summer sun making everything gleam and glitter and glow. As Mordred looked up he could see that the place seemed to somehow be magically enlarged as they were five more floors with mezzanine balconies stacked one on top of the other. Lush squishy looking armchairs and sofas piled with cushions stood upon thick creamy carpets and the only source of light Harry could see was the large chandelier that hung down from the huge glass vaulted ceiling. The light feature like the rest of his new surroundings seemed to be made of vines that twisted, turned, changed and grew the longer Mordred looked it. People of all shapes and sizes sat around dressed in robes, some people simply had a drink in hand but others had large trunks beside them that seemed to disappear as they laughed and gossiped. At the far end of the room directly opposite Mordred was a large door; to the left Mordred could see a beautiful mahogany reception desk with a woman sat behind it and a highly polished mahogany bar on the right.

As Professor Flitwick steered Mordred towards the door at the far end, many of the people sitting around called out of greeting to the Professor and he acknowledged each with a cheery wave and a quick greeting. Mordred couldn't help smiling at the excited atmosphere that seemed to bubble and ooze from everyone.

"Come on Mr Pendragon," Professor Flitwick said with a wide smile opening the door with a flourish, "I understand The Leaky Cauldron is rather astonishing sight to behold, even I am astonished sometimes and I've had eight years to get used to it; however I think it's time you were properly introduced to the Wizarding world.

He may as well just keep his eyes permanently bulging and his mouth permanently open like a goldfish, Mordred thought as he looked out at the sight before him.

"This Mordred, is Diagon Alley," Flitwick exclaimed proudly in a large booming voice that Mordred thought shouldn't be able to come out of such a small man, "This is the Wizarding world!"

Mordred didn't know where to look, he and Professor Flitwick was stood at the top of a set of steps leading down onto a large wide street. Shops on either side built in the same Tudor fashion as The Leaky Cauldron interspersed with large Gothic church looking structures towered and arched over each side of the street. Instead of a road running down the middle like Mordred expected large colourful market stalls had been set up. Everywhere Mordred looked things glowed with what he was starting to realise was magic, he could see it, feel it buzzing in the air as the wonderful smells and sounds accosted his senses and drove him into fits of excitement far greater than anything he had ever experienced.

Just as he was about to set off into the crowd a small hand clamped firmly down on his upper arm and he reluctantly turned to see an incredibly amused looking Flitwick guiding him down the steps and over to one of the first shops on the Alley.

"The first thing we need to do with you, before we do anything else is get you a wand," Flitwick proclaimed entering the shop to the sound of the tinkling bells, Mordred just being able to read the sign above the door which read Ollivander's Wand Shop before three women seem to get impatient with his dawdling pushed him inside in front of them. Feeling rather bemused Mordred went over and sat down next to Professor Flitwick where he had settled himself down on a comfy looking bench to wait.

The shop itself seemed rather busy and Mordred didn't get a single glimpse of Ollivander for about thirty minutes as the man seemed to be surrounded by eagerly waiting customers. When there was a lull in the crowds of customers Mordred was able to see the shop in its entirety and felt slightly overwhelmed by what he saw. Surrounding every single wall, piled up to the ceiling with small piles scattered here and there on the floor boxes and more boxes seemed to fill every alcove in the tiny shop. A single oil lamp and a scattering of parchment pieces took up residence on a large intricately woven wooden desk placed in the far corner. Ollivander (or at least the person Mordred thought was Ollivander) tall and lanky with white fuzzy hair stood behind the desk shaking his head in weary amusement before he came over and greeted Flitwick.

"Fillius, old man good to see you," Ollivander held out his arm in greeting and Fillius grasped it in a strong firm hold. Ollivander seemed to spot Mordred in that moment and his is a eyes lit up with understanding, "Ah, bringing round another new recruit to get his things are we?"

Flitwick smiled, "Yes, this is Mordred, I already have a feel for him Alexander, he's either a Ravenclaw or a Slytherin, not quite sure which yet but that should help you in your search for his wand."

Ollivander eyed Mordred up and down for a moment before sighing and giving Flitwick an amused look, "Why you lot at Hogwarts can't possibly bring your kids here earlier in the year to get their wands I don't know; I've been run off my feet for the last three weeks and I don't see it stopping any time soon. Don't people know how long it takes to choose a –"

Flitwick chuckled, "So sorry to get interrupt Alexander, but can we get on with this, I only have two hours to help Mr Mordred here saw on a bit of a tight schedule, I have to introduce a family called the Granger's at one o'clock."

Ollivander sighed, "Very well, I suppose."

An hour and a half later, after Mordred had had every angle of his body measured by flying measuring tape he then proceeded to try every single wand in the shop. Ollivander would hand him a wand, Mordred would flick the wand and something would blow up. A few times Mordred's fingers had hardly even brushed the wood before Ollivander would snatch it back muttering that it was definitely not the one for Mordred.

The glow of magic in Diagon Alley was starting to get to him. Normally the only magic he was around was his own and so had become accustomed to that level. Now, surrounded by so much magical energy, it was like being in a room where loud drum and bass music was being played. The only difference was the beasts of sound were replaced with waves of magic crashing into his body. To add to Mordred's growing fear of never getting a wand, if Ollivander spent too long trying to help Mordred crowds of angry parents would start to build up, getting impatient that they couldn't get on with their days and so many times Ollivander had had to go and help them to stop the angry parents and impatient children from tearing his shop down.

In the end Flitwick had had to leave Mordred with Ollivander in order to meet his appointment with the Granger's and half an hour later turned up with the family to Ollivanders.

"Mordred young man, this is Miss Hermione Granger and her parents Mrs Elizabeth Granger and Mr Howard Granger," Flitwick said, leading the Granger's over to where Mordred was sitting morosely on the bench watching as Ollivander fitted out yet another young wizard that wasn't him with a wand. "Still not got your wand yet? Alexander will be running out of them soon."

Mordred sighed, "Not yet, I still hold out a slight hope."

As a way of distracting himself Mordred looked over at the girl and her parents; the Granger's Mordred thought Flitwick has called them. He held out his hand the girl, "Hello I'm Mordred," he said introducing himself with a small smile as he looked the girl up and down. She had pewter black curly hair that hung down in large defined ringlets framing her thin pale face. There was only a hint of colour in her cheeks and she had large deep-set eyes which shone out from her face in a dazzling midnight blue. Even at such a young age Mordred could tell an incredible beauty when he saw one and this girl definitely fell into that category.

"And I'm Hermione Granger," the girl said taking his hand in a small pale one of her own and shaking it surprisingly firmly, "Is Mordred your first or second name, it's rather… old fashioned don't you think?" She continued rather rudely as Mordred got an odd sense of déjà vu.

"Hermione," Mrs Granger said in stern warning voice, causing Hermione to look up at her mother in annoyance.

"What?" Hermione asked her mother in confusion, "I only asked him whether it was his first or second name." She turned back to Mordred, "So, what is it, your first or second name?"

Mordred realised that Mr and Mrs Granger while looking nothing like their daughter looked awfully familiar to him, "Have I met you before," Mordred asked them, before turning back to the girl in front of him and peering at her closely, "It's only, your parents seem familiar to me."

Hermione seemed for the first time to properly look at Mordred and then her eyes widened comically, "Badger?"

Mordred frowned, "There's only been one –Fox?" He asked in disbelief and seconds later he had rushed forward and embraced the girl in the tight hug.

"Oh my God, Badger I thought you never see you again," Hermione whispered into Mordred's hair as she clung to him.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you either Fox," Mordred said hugging the girl so tight she almost couldn't breathe.

"Hermione?" Hermione's mother asked coming to lay a hand on her daughters back, "You can't possibly mean the Badger that used to come round to our house all the time?" She asked, turning to her husband to share a look of shocked disbelief.

Hermione nodded in answer to her mum's question as she pulled back to look at the boy in front of her, "I've missed you so much do you know that?" She asked him

"The same here _Hermione_, gosh is that really your name Fox?" Mordred asked with a small smile, taking her hands.

Hermione laughed, "Well it's better than _either_ of your actual names _Badger_, or should I call you _Mordred?_"

"I'm missing something," Professor Flitwick said stepping forward and looking at the two children who were embracing like old friends.

Hermione beamed, "Badger – I mean _Mordred_ used to live up the street from me, but then there was the fire and you moved away, I couldn't believe it." Through the course of her sentence Hermione's face transformed from a beaming smile into a sad teary eyed frown.

"But I do seem to remember you having brown hair when I left Fox," Mordred said coming forward in picking out one of the girls luscious black curls, "Along with a pair of brown eyes, how did they become blue?"

"They were turning blue the whole time," Mrs Granger said coming forward to put her arm around Hermione, "It's only within the past year or two that they've become the deep blue that they are now, it's quite a strange but not unheard of occurrence according to the doctors we've been to see, although the huge change from brown to blue is quite unheard of."

"Are you still living in London?" Mordred asked, "I wandered your way once a few years back, knocked on the door and everything but the lady living in your house said that you moved about a year ago."

Hermione nodded, "Yeah, mum and dad got their own practice a little way further out the other side of London, we moved so they didn't have to commute every day."

At that point Ollivander wandered over intending to give Mordred another go at finding a wand. After another thirty minuets it was painfuly obvious this wasn't going to happen any time soon and Olivander turned his attention towards Hermione. Ten minuetes later and the dark haired girl managed to acquire a wand, 10¾" vine wood wand with an Ashwinder scale core according to Ollivander.

"Don't worry Badger, I'm sure you'll find one soon," Hermione said with an encouraging smile from where she sat on the bench waiting for Mordred. Her parents had wanted to take her off and do their shopping while Mordred was getting a wand, but Hermione had insisted on waiting for her old friend, her only friend if she was to be honest.

"Yes you most certainly will Mr Pendragon," Ollivander said with a nod of encouragement as he came out with yet another wand only to discard the moment Mordred's fingers curled around it, "Let's see, you seem to lean more towards wands that have some part of a Phoenix as the core, whether it be a tail feather, a scale, or a claw, but then you also have an affinity for the very few basilisk core wands I have as well, with two such opposing wand cores both working for you equally as well this will not be easy. At the fact that Dragon cores are also a contender… All three are so powerful, I wonder…"

Mordred frowned, "What you mean when you say that they are opposing?"

Ollivander lifted an eyebrow, "Simply this, a Phoenix is the Light animal, the animal of fire, warmth and life. The Phoenix tears can heal any wound, whether mental or physical. A basilisk on the other hand is the Dark animal, an animal of shadows, cold winter night and death. One single glance into the eyes of a basilisk can kill any living creature. A Dragon, equally powerful as either of the other two with traits from both is a neutral being, neither of light and darkness, just simple equilibrium. The fact that you seem to lean towards all three of these cores would indicate that you yourself are… a complete mystery."

"So does that mean anyone with a basilisk core to their wand is evil and dark and the thing that anybody with a Phoenix core is light and good? What about someone with a Dragon core, are they destined never to take a side?" Hermione asked curiously.

Ollivander turned to Hermione in surprise, "Not at all my dear girl, it merely means that the person with either a Phoenix or basilisk wand core is more disposed to be incredibly driven by their beliefs and that once their beliefs are there, solid in place in their minds, it will be very hard to persuade them otherwise and would take something drastic to do so. Whereas the Dragon core is more likely to indicate a person of changeable beliefs, not easily manipulated of course, simply that the person is willing to accept that they are wrong sometimes. However the wand chooses the wizard Miss Granger and I have seen many a wizard and witch walk out of the shop with one of those three wand cores that display none of those traits.."

"You must have one somewhere that will fit me, even if it's not a perfect fit?" Mordred asked apprehensively, "At this point, I'm starting to think it's my only option."

Ollivander turned his head to the side and contemplated Mordred for a moment, slowly Ollivander said, "You have tried almost every wand in my shop and so far none have fit Mr Pendragon but I assure you there will be one that does. I am starting to wonder however…" Once again his eyes darted up to Mordred's forehead and back, "I can tell you need a powerful wand, but you seem to have very little allegiance to one animal, the closest allegiance is to a Dragon, but that cannot be the actual core to your wand, no you need something for more… decided."

Mordred nodded slightly, still a bit unsure but respecting the wand makers opinion. Ollivander smiled down at Mordred's nervousness and disappeared off down one of the many towering rows of wands. A minute later there was a loud crash and a plume of dust came shooting out from one of the rows of wands the.

"Mr Ollivander," Mordred called out in concern, "are you alright?"

"Fine," was the reply as Ollivander emerged from the cloud clutching a very dusty looking box, "it has been over hundred years since this particular wand has been out for me to try and match it, I have never found the right person."

Ollivander reverently opened the box and pulled out a dark red pearlescent wand, "Eleven inches, made out of King Dragon scale, with a hollow core," Ollivander whispered reverently.

"How does it produce magic if it doesn't have a magical core?" Professor Flitwick asked in confusion.

Ollivander laughed, "That was Albus's question was well, when I tested him and the answer is that because the wand itself is made of a magical material there is no need for a core. This wand is completely unique, and I did not make it myself, my great grandfather eight times removed who was the original wand maker, the original Ollivander of Ollivander's Wand Shop. He made this wand for two very special customers, before he had even officially opened the shop. The wand was used for a very long time by its owners, but at their death, instead of being buried with it like most witches and wizards to, they had it given back and told my many times grandfather that one day it would be needed again for a very powerful core. They told him it would not feel right straightaway because the person who it eventually belonged to would need to add their own unique element to it, but that it would happen.

Yes I'm taking a chance on this one," Mordred heard Ollivander say. As his fingers curled round the handle of the wand Mordred couldn't help the gasp at the warmth he felt radiating from the Dragon scale. The wand felt heavy in his hand, nice really, but there was still the niggling feeling in the back of his head that it wasn't quite right, that there was only half of what he wanted in his hand right now.

"How does it feel Mr Pendragon?" Ollivander asked.

"I don't know," Mordred whispered staring at the wand in amazement, "it feels right, but it feels like there's something… I don't know… missing?" He asked, looking up at Ollivander who had a very pleased look on his face.

"Try it Mordred," Hermione insisted grinning at him, holding her own wand out and flicking it causing red sparks to fly everywhere.

Mordred nodded and held the wand out in front of him. For a second nothing happened, but then large jets of red light came shooting out the tip and making him want to laugh with joy. As the lights dissipated Mordred felt the feeling of euphoria leave him and a slight dizziness overtook causing him to clutch his head and groan.

"You need to learn to control that power Mr Pendragon," Ollivander warned with an amused look, "it may have something to do with the wand as well, it definitely belongs to you, and I have a sneaking suspicion that the way it feels right now, you need to add your core to it."

Mordred frowned, "It's not my wand, not quite, I've never touched my own wand before but I know this isn't quite it."

Ollivander gave a commiserating nod, "I understand completely child; it took me five hours of my father handing me wands to find the one that I was meant for. Even when I did find it, there was something missing." He took out his own wand and showed it to Mordred, "12 inches, Black fairy dust core, Pine. It took me five years to realise that what was missing was the varnish. Most wands only need to be polished with normal wood polish, my wand had to have under layer of White fairy dust to balance out the core." Ollivander shrugged putting away his wand and smiling at Mordred, "You'll find out what's missing from your wand, don't worry."

After that Mr Ollivander boxed up Mordred's new wand and he paid ten galleons for it before following Professor Flitwick and the Grangers out into Diagon Alley once again.

"The next stop along our little journey should be Flourish and Blotts for your new books." At the mention of new books, both Hermione and Mordred became almost unable to contain their excitement.

As soon as the two children entered the store the adults lost sight of them in between the mounds of cascading books and shelves. To Mordred, and apparently Hermione as well the idea of so many new and unknown books in one place was mouth-watering. There were books the size of tombstones covered in thick leather that neither of them could open even though there was no lock. Books with the most horrible putrid smells coming from them, (the two avoided that section) books the size of a double bed and others that had to be read with a magical magnifying glass (apparently that was the section for fairies) and even books that they couldn't pick up because they were, as Professor Flitwick explained, ghost books, books for the dead to read. It took almost two hours for the children to round up all the books on their class list, one of which was entitled _The Monster Book of Monsters_, the store clerk almost had a fit when he was told they needed _two_ of them. The books themselves were being held in a cage; covered with brown matted looking fur and with four beady black spiderlike eyes sticking out the top they were incredibly fearsome looking as they used clasps that looked like teeth to rip each other apart.

By the time they had left the shop Hermione had not only got the class required books but about fifteen others that she wanted, most detailing histories about the Wizarding world, transportation systems, government and culture. Mordred looked on in envy, but resigned himself to knowing only what was taught in his new school books by the end of the holidays when he was to start Hogwarts.

The small group made their way along the street and Professor Flitwick announced that their next destination would be Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions so that the children could get their school robes for that year.

When they entered they found Madam Malkin, a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve, tending to a boy with a pale, pointed face and bright white blond hair standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes.

"Hogwarts, dears?" Madam Malkin said, when she saw the group. "Got the lot here," she pronounced her smile widening even more as she saw Professor Flitwick standing with them, "Oh Fillius, how nice to see you, how is it up at Hogwarts this time of year, nice and sunny?"

Professor Flitwick grinned, "Yes but quite glorious I will confess." He turned to Mordred and Hermione, "Now, you're going to be here for quite a while so Miss Granger I think I'll take your parents to the teashop over the road, I shall see you both in about half an hour."

Mrs Granger came to Hermione smiled and kissed her forehead, "Be good, and don't be rude," she insisted with a stern finger pointed in Hermione's face.

"Don't worry Mrs Granger," Mordred said coming up and standing beside Hermione with a grin, "I'll make sure she behaves."

"Thank you Mr Mordred," Mr Granger thanked him with a wink as he steered his wife from the shop.

"Hello," said the blonde boy the two had seen earlier, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Hermione with a bright polite smile and Mordred couldn't help the smirk at the suppressed questions he knew Hermione was trying not to ask.

The blonde boy nodded "My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

"Why not simply persuade him?" Mordred asked curiously.

"Pardon?" The boy asked in confusion, but as he glanced over he caught Hermione's eye, looking her up and down, "We're not related are we? The names Draco Malfoy, my mother is a Black, you have a very strong resemblance."

"Oh, no, I doubt it, I'm a muggleborn," Hermione explained with a smile.

"Oh are you," the boys face instantly morphed into a sneer, "they're still letting your lot in then are they?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione shot back, a sneer of her own twisting her features.

The boy's attention went to Mordred and his eyes narrowed, "And what about you, are you a mudblood as well?" The boys eyes travelled up and down Mordred's scruffy clothing and for the first time in a long time Mordred felt rather ashamed, "Never mind, I can tell by the way you dress, or are you a Weasley? With your hair and tatty clothing I wouldn't be surprised, Bloodtraitor."

Mordred's anger which hadn't been sparked in such a long time was suddenly at the forefront of his mind, he wanted to destroy this boy, "Do you know," he calmly, swallowing his anger and stuffing it in the back of his head, "the people who insult me never normally have the guts to do to my face," he said taking a single step forward and locking eyes with the boy, "and if they do, they normally don't end up in such good shape afterwards."

The boy seemed to lose a slight bit of his bravado for a moment, but he quickly regained it, "How dare you threaten me mudblood, my father is-"

"Oh, your father," Hermione said stepping up to Harry with a smirk on her face, "going to run to daddy instead of facing two _mudbloods_ on your own? Coward!"

"Oh now none of that!" Madam Malkin said coming back in through the back door to the storeroom, it "You're only first years, I will not have you casting spells on each other that you don't even know how to cast yet and blowing up my store."

She motioned to Malfoy to get down from the stool, "That's you done," she said ushering the boy out to where he was met by a blonde haired couple. The boy seemed to give one last sneer at the shop before he looked up at the blonde man and seemed to burst into a rant.

"I know you two properly don't understand what just went on, but maybe you should ask Professor Flitwick about it." Madam Malkin said when Mordred and Hermione opened their mouths to start questioning her. _In other words, Don't ask me_! Mordred thought annoyed as the witch ushered him up onto a stool.

It took another forty minutes before the two of them were ready with they're new school robes, and by that time Flitwick and Hermione's parents had come back into the shop to wait for them.

"Well now then, I suppose we need to get your potion things and then hop over to the apothecary for your standard ingredients."

Like before, both Mordred and Hermione were totally fascinated by the apothecary, it took ages to get everything they needed because they were always distracted by something unique and interesting looking. Hermione got far more than she needed, constantly thinking of all the different potion she could create with them and Mordred was starting to think his eyes were going to permanently go round in circles he was rolling them so much.

After they had got both Hermione and Mordred a set of scales for potions and a cauldron Professor Flitwick declared their shopping (or at least Hermione's) finished. Just as Hermione and her parents had turned to leave she suddenly gasped digging into her bag as she ran back to Mordred's side. Pulling his hand to her she started writing on his hand, "If you don't phone me before the start of school I will be very, very upset and I shan't have any scruples in hexing you as soon as we get on board Hogwarts Express!" She declared with a happy and slightly scolding look. With a kiss on his cheek she said a happy goodbye to Professor Flitwick and Mordred before going after her parents into Leakey Cauldron.

"So what are we going to do now?" Mordred asked, turning to Professor Flitwick as he tried to hide his slightly red face.

"I think it's time we took you down to Gringots bank Mr Pendragon, you're going to need a vault of your own to hold your money," Professor Flitwick said with a smile.

Gringots bank turned out to be a huge Greek looking white marble structure with huge towering columns on either side of huge dark wooden doors further down Diagon Alley. The place was completely at odds with the rest of the surrounding buildings and Mordred knew that if he was going to put his money anywhere he would definitely feel safest putting it here. As they reached the entrance to the towering building Mordred spotted a small looking man dressed in the uniform of scarlet and gold. He looked to be about a head shorter than Harry with a long pointed nose, shrewd looking eyes and a small black beard.

When Professor Flitwick spotted the small man he gave a warm chuckle and a wave which was returned with a small nod and smile of acknowledgement but nothing else.

"Do you know him?" Mordred asked curiously but they were faced with a set of closed ornate silver gates.

Professor Flitwick smiled at Mordred didn't say anything you strode forward and… walked straight through the gates. At the moment for Mordred's astonishment to past when it did he laughed and walked forward towards the gates as well… only to find himself bouncing back off a falling on the floor with a hit head, the gates were completely solid.

Professor Frederick chuckled, "Oh, that never gets old," he laughed and pointed up at the archway above the gate, "Read it please," was all he said.

Before looking up the words Professor Flitwick wished him to read Mordred examined the silver gate or closely. Since being in Diagon Alley Mordred's senses seemed to have gotten used to the glow that the magical world produced, his headache had calmed down dramatically and it was now only a slight twitching sensation in his mind. However looking up on the gate Mordred realised he could very clearly see a glowing aura around the metal bars. Touching them again Mordred's eyes lit up slightly as he felt a zinging feeling under his fingers; stepping back he looked up at the dark stone archway, and seeing the silver words engraved there started to read-

"Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there."

Looking back to Flitwick the man nodded, "You can walk through it now," he said indicating the gate. Wearily Mordred walked up to the gate reaching out his hand and laughing in delight as his hands simply passed through it. With a smile he walked the rest of the way through and went to stand next to Professor Flitwick.

"What was that?" Mordred asked curiously looking back at the gate.

"That Mr Pendragon was a warning from the goblins; it is impossible to rob Gringots Mr Pendragon. The gate reads every intention in your head, if it found any evidence to suggest you had the intention of taking something that was not yours, you would not be able to pass through the gate. On entering Gringots for the first time everyone must read the warning aloud as it activates the spell. If you have not read it aloud, you would not have been able to enter."

Another pair of small men dressed in black velvet and with silver trimming bowed to them as they approached yet another archway, this one with golden see-through curtains shimmering as they swayed in a non-existent wind.

"This arch reads magical potential Mr Pendragon," Professor Flitwick explained as he passed through the curtain without seeming to see it, making it glow slightly, "it will not harm you in any way so you have nothing to fear."

Still cautious, Mordred walked up to the curtains and reached out his hand. Once again they glowed slightly but unlike the set of gates that he could feel nothing of, these were almost tangible, it felt like water woven into cloth. He could almost grasp the golden fabric but just as his fist try to close around the material slipped from his grasp.

"What are you doing?" Professor Flitwick asked in confusion

"Feeling the curtains material Prof," Mordred said in confusion.

Flitwick eyebrows rose up and disappeared and his pointed hat, "There is no curtain there Mr Pendragon," he said slowly.

Mordred frowned as he stepped fully through the curtains. They once again glowed but Professor Flitwick seemed not to notice. Looking back he saw the two small men who had bowed them in the main entrance shooting curious glances with each other as they examined Mordred more closely. Nothing else happened as he came to stand beside Flitwick some Mordred shrugged it off as just another one of his weird quirks.

"Well now," Flitwick said as he set off at a brisk pace through the vast black marble hall, "welcome to Gringots Mr Pendragon."

Around the Halls edge a hundred or more small people were sitting behind what Mordred could only describe as high judges benches, bringing them up to just above eye level with most of the wizards and witches surrounding them.

"I don't mean to be rude Professor Flitwick, but why are all these people so small?" Mordred asked quietly gesturing around at the people behind the benches.

"Oh," Flitwick's eyes widened slightly before he laughed, "those are not humans Mr Pendragon, they are goblins."

Mordred's eyes widened and he once again looked at the small beings, yes he could see it now, they had pointed ears and their fingers were oddly long, he supposed in retrospect he really shouldn't have thought them human.

"I'm actually a quarter goblin myself," Professor Flitwick said with a wink to Mordred as they walked further into the Hall.

Mordred laughed but it was quickly cut off as he spotted a large white stone archway with what seemed like a mirror encased within it in the centre of the Hall; men and women stepped out of the mirror every few seconds causing ripples in its surface, and as Mordred and Professor Flitwick walked around the archway Mordred could see people on the other side of the archway walking into the mirror.

Flitwick grinned at Mordreds slightly slack-jawed face, "Goblin transportation," he said proudly, "The mirror acts the same as the Liars Gateway."

"Liars Gateway?" Mordred asked confused

"There is an identical archway in every Wizarding town in Britain, it transports people from that location to Gringots. The silver gate you passed through, well the mirror acts the same way, the only difference is it's possible for someone wishing to steal something from Gringots to pass into the mirror, " Flitwick explained, but just as Mordred was about to turn away thinking the explanation over, a predatory grin spread over Flitwick's face, revealing feral white pointed teeth as he continued in a slightly more bloodthirsty tone, "however they never emerge from the other side."

Mordred suppressed a shudder that wanted to spread throughout his body, if he had had any doubt that Professor Flitwick was not human before, he had none now.

Walking up to one of counters where a goblin was scribbling in a large leather bound ledger, as he weighed coins on a brass scale Professor Flitwick cleared his throat and smiled up at the goblin, "Morning," Professor Flitwick said brightly, "we are here to open up a new vault for Mr Pendragon here."

The goblin looked down its nose at them, "Very well," he said clicking his fingers and causing the ledger, coins and brass scales to disappear, "I will need your wand."

Mordred nodded and reached into his bag of shrunken school supplies to pick out the box in which his wand was carried. Taking the wand from the box he handed over to the goblin who examined it a moment before nodding to himself and disappearing as he climbed down from behind the bench and emerged through a small door in its side.

"Follow me please gentlemen," he said as he set a brisk pace across the Hall to a door on the other side. Ushering them through the goblin led them across a small antechamber and up a set of dark wood spiral staircase. When they reached the top they walked down long twisting corridors, the goblin every now and again leading them through the door that went to another corridor until finally he came to a stop in front of a light wood door with a brass handle and knocker.

After the goblin knocked at the door and an answering, "Enter!" sounded from inside the goblin pushed the door open and led them into what looked like a miniature office. Everything in the room was half size one would normally expect them to be and the Mordred got the oddest feeling that the goblins did this on purpose to make fully grown wizards uncomfortable in this situation. The goblin sat behind the desk pushed a small tray of precious looking stones he seemed to have been examining away from him as he looked curiously over his spectacles at Mordred and Professor Flitwick.

"How may I help you Fillius?" He asked with a raised eyebrow as the goblin who had led them there placed Mordreds wand on the desk before disappearing back out of the door.

"The child wishes to open a vault Vallen," Professor Flitwick replied with a small smile

"Very well," the goblin nodded and motioned Mordred and Professor Flitwick to sit down in the chairs in front of his desk, "I'm assuming that you are acting magical guardian for the child until he has been sorted into a house at Hogwarts?" He asked Professor Flitwick

"Yes," Professor Flitwick replied as he settled himself down on the small chair and turned to Mordred, "Then your magical guardian will be your head of house."

"Very well," the goblin replied and with another wave of his hand caused a rolled piece of parchment to come flying out of a chest of drawers to the side of the office and straight into his hand. Unravelling the parchment the goblin trailed a long thin pointed finger down the parchment, "Let me see, wand 11 inches, Dragon scale with… no core?" he asked curiously picking it up, "and your name is… Mr Mordred Pendragon, now there is a name I have not heard in a long while," the goblins shrewd eyes turned and pierced Mordred, "I wonder," the goblin whispered, his eyes going slightly misty.

"Wonder what?" Mordred asked curiously with a raise of his eyebrow.

His words seemed to jolt the goblin out of his trance and he blinked slightly a frown crossing his face, "Never mind child, everything is in order here," the goblin said pressing his thumbnail into his forefinger and pricking it to allow a small globe of green blood to form there. Allowing the drop of blood to fall onto a black wax seal that had appeared at the bottom of the parchment, the goblin once again tapped his finger to the paper causing the parchment to roll up and transform into a small golden key.

"Yours is vault one thousand two hundred and twenty seven, "the goblin announced holding their key out for Mordred to take, "it is not one of the blood vaults you either have to inherit one of those or be of legal age."

Mordred nodded, taking the key and thanking the goblin; he had a feeling all the questions he wanted to ask would not be answered just then. Moving out from behind his desk the goblin walked over to the corner of the room and opened both doors on a large cherry red wood cabinet; inside stood a roughly carved stone ring about the diameter of a small hula-hoop. Engraved around the edges were runes quite similar to the ones Mordred had seen on the arch in the main chamber and at the very bottom of the ring was what looked like a keyhole.

"In order to get your money out of the bank Mr Pendragon you will have to go down to the vault yourself but to put items into the vault you need only ask in the main chamber and one of these rings would be used. Simply put your key into the keyhole and turn it to the left. Mordred nodded, stepping forward and doing as the goblin had instructed. The moment he turned his key the inside of the brink shimmered and warped creating a bubblelike surface.

"Simply throw your money in and it will go straight into your vault." The goblin said with a small bow to Mordred. After throwing his money into his new vault, Professor Flitwick took Mordred back to the Foster house.

When they got to his room Professor Flitwick handed over a small letter, "What's this?" Mordred asked

"This is your ticket to the Hogwarts Express," Professor Flitwick said with a smile, "It says platform 9 and 3/4, it's a platform on the Wizarding train station Drosanthar, you get the station by walking into one of the pillars between platform nine and ten at the muggle train station Paddington."

Professor Flitwick smiled, "One more thing Mr Pendragon, you're not allowed to perform magic outside of school under any circumstances, do I make myself clear?" He asked, his face for the first time Mordred has seen it going quite stern as pointed a questioning finger at Mordred.

Mordred give single nod that he understood and Professor Flitwick, after giving an indulgent chuckle held out his wand and in the blink of an eye was gone.

Since he had turned five, and therefore able to travel on all public transport for free and without supervision Mordred had spent as little time in any of his Foster homes as possible. In the morning he would get up early and go down to the kitchen to have breakfast before anybody else and then either go off to school or if it was during the holidays out to the local library. The reason for this was simple, Mordred saw absolutely no point in getting to know people that he was just going to have to leave again in a few months time, allowing himself to get close to someone was just asking for heartbreak.

He had been told by Mrs Maggs to expect a visitor the day before Professor Flitwick had arrived, which was the only reason he had been in the house on a Saturday, instead of at the local library. Now, after the last week of school had finished his holiday schedule had changed very little, the only difference was instead of going to the local muggle library over his holidays he now went into the Wizarding world.

It hadn't taken Mordred long to find out that Diagon Alley was only one Wizarding Street out of many. Diagon Alley was essentially the main commercial shopping street in Wizarding London that catered to working-class wizards and witches as well as school students, it had all the main clothes shops, toyshops, and furniture shops, making it the longest of all Wizarding streets. The other streets were Horizont Alley, Vertic Alley, Parallel Alley, Perpendicular Alley, Crescent Alley, Nocturn Alley and Diurnal Alley.

Horizont Alley and Vertic Alley were essentially easiest to understand, they ran from West to East in the case of Horizont Alley and North to South in the case of Vertic Alley; Horizont Alley consisted of a mix between industrial units and large sports arenas dedicated to quidditch (apparently one of the most popular Wizarding sports), pegasus polo, winged horse racing, broomstick racing and a duelling arena to name but a few. Vertic Alley was dedicated to a mix between apothecary shops, estate agents, (although in the Wizarding world they were called House Finders) and Hogtusk, the Wizarding equivalent of University. Parallel Alley ran (as its name suggests) parallel to the Thames River and held all the important Ministry of Magic (Wizarding Government) buildings, Gringots Bank, (the bank was located at the intersection between Diagon alley and Parallel Alley) as well as St Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Perpendicular Alley cut across Horizont Alley and was pretty much a magical arts and crafts Street where wizard and witch artists had studios and shops to sell their goods from. Nocturn Alley ran off at an angle from Diagon Alley and was dedicated to the dark arts, dark arts books, dark arts furniture, dark arts toys, dark arts apothecary, you name it and if it had Dark written in front of it, it was sold there. Diurnal Alley was Nocturn Alley's exact opposite, running off at the same angle from the opposite side of Diagon Alley, Diurnal Alley focused most on light magic, the very lightest, it had surprised Mordred immensely that it was avoided just as much as Nocturn Alley. However out of all the Wizarding streets yet come across, Crescent Alley was by far his favourite; predictably in the shape of the crescent, Crescent Alley joined the end of Nocturn Alley and Diurnal Alley together. Crescent Alley was the place to come and eat, the whole street was dedicated to restaurants, cafes, small delicatessens, grocery stores and any other food related store under the sun. It was not however because of any of the eateries or food shops that Mordred liked this particular street the best; no, the reason he liked this street best was because right in the centre of it was the Wizarding Grand Library.

The library was a colossal building that consisted of two hundred floors worth of books, scrolls, script, musical instruments, music rolls, pensieve memories and many other things that Mordred had no clue what to do with.

This was where he spent his summer, reading as much as he possibly could about the culture he was entering into. The only breaks in his days of reading were when he was writing to Hermione, or sleeping.

His friendship with Hermione had, to his surprise blossomed, the two of them seemed to get along like peas in a pod. Not a day passed when a phone call was not exchanged between the two of them, they mostly consisted of a mainly Hermione phoning Mordred and then Mordred telling her everything he had read that day in the library. Hermione bemoaned the fact that she could not join Mordred in the library, but her parents were insistent on her spending as much time with them as possible over the summer, doing family things because she would be going away for so long when she started Hogwarts.

Hermione told Mordred that she found her parents insistence on spending time together rather irritating. She said she loved her parents a lot, but she also admitted to it being a love of the fact that they were her parents as opposed to any real fondness for them or their personalities. She admitted to Harry that she had nothing in common with her parents; they were both dentists and although both academics themselves did not have the obsession with knowledge that Hermione had. They didn't understand their child, and Harry pitied his friend for that, at least he didn't have that pain, and having parents he couldn't connect with, who didn't understand him though it was little consolation.

Review? :)


	2. Belonging Chapter 2

This Chapter Word Count- 17,427

Serpent Skin Chapter 2

Belonging

On the morning of September 1st Mordred said a cursory goodbye to Mrs Maggs and with his battered old suitcase that Mordred had had since before he could remember he set off for Paddington station. After loading his trunk onto one of the station trolleys Mordred found his way over to platforms nine and ten where he looked dubiously at the pillars between the platforms. Taking a deep breath Mordred pushed his trolley forward, gaining speed slightly as he went. Just as Mordred decided he was going to get quite hurt as he smashed into the pillar the front of him the trolley disappeared into the wall and because of the simple fact that Mordred is holding onto the trolley is pulled through the wall after it.

Once on the other side of the barrier Mordred could do nothing but stare wide-eyed at the scene before him, he was standing looking out over a train station at least the size of the one he just left if not bigger. The only difference was instead of electric trains coming in and out of the station huge steam engines whistled as they puff out smoke. Mordred couldn't help the silly grin that spread over his face, the place was amazing. It had the same layout Paddington station and Mordred was stood where the entrance to the underground would have been in Paddington. Looking behind him Mordred could see huge mirror the depicted the scene he had just left, muggles walked passed the entrance to the Wizarding train station without even blinking and Mordred wondered whether he, living in the muggle world for ten years as he had had ever done the same himself, just walk past something magical without even knowing it.

"Muggleborn?" Asked the wizard guard who was sat at a desk straight in front of him.

"Yes," Mordred said slowly, _I suppose I am a muggleborn_, he thought to himself, the notion had not occurred to him before, _it's the only reason why I would end up in a _muggle_ orphanage, if I had had magical parents I would have been left with magical relatives or friends surly._

"How did you know I was a muggleborn anyway?" He asked the guard curiously just speculating if it was his clothing or something different.

The wizard shrugged, "It's obvious, that's the muggle entrance to the station, only muggleborn's use it, everyone else just uses the floo or apparates in, do you know what that means?" He asked in a condescending tone.

Mordred clenched his teeth in irritation but nonetheless answered in a polite voice, "Of course I know what they are silly, apparation is the bending of physical space to allow a person to move instantaneously from one place to another without physically having to move their body mass so much as an inch, the science of it is quite amazing actually. Flooing on the other hand is the use of magically created- for lack of a better word _superhighways_ through space and time with fixed entry and exit points; though a slightly slower method of travel than apparation one is able to travel far greater distances by flooing and anyone even a muggle could do it as it doesn't depend on a person's inner magic, I suppose it's much the same as a wormhole in muggle science fiction movies only there are lots of them and they're all interconnected."

Mordred raised an elegant eyebrow when the guard didn't answer just stared at him with a gaping mouth, "Really is a rather unattractive look," he murmured sadly, "you should really try to work on that and I would very much appreciate it if you would point me towards my platform."

"I'm assuming you're Hogwarts student," the guard said seeming to snap out of his daze and eyeing Mordred up and down.

"That would be the correct assumption," Mordred said stiffly, "and I'm a first-year to boot, so the way you greeted me was hardly appropriate but we shall let that slip shall we and start over, could you please point me to my platform?"

"Your platform is over there," the wizard pointed, "your train doesn't leave for another hour and a half, you're early."

Mordred raised an unimpressed eyebrow, the way the man said "_your early"_, it made Mordred feel like he was being accused of something, "I know I'm early," he said in a rather annoyed voice, "As a ranging muggleborn I wanted some time to explore the station before I got on the train." with that he turned on his heel and left the guard to do as he pleases thoroughly fed up with the man's company.

Through careful research Mordred had been able to determine how it was that the Ministry tracked the use of underage magic; every registered wand maker in the Wizarding world was subject by law to put a charm called _The Trace _on every wand they made. Upon a child buying his or her first wand The Trace would automatically jumped from the wand to the witch or wizard. The charm then gave out a two-meter sensory field. When any magic was performed within that field it was recorded where the child was and if there were any other adult wizards or witches about. The charm had its flaws however, the child had to be in a muggle area without any other wizard or witch near them for the underage alarm to activate. This meant that so long as the child used his or her wand in the presence of an adult witch or wizard and/or was in a magical environment the child could get away with using magic. Essentially the trace only stopped muggleborns using magic outside of Hogwarts, purebloods could use their magic whenever they wanted. Mordred himself had tried out quite a few spells while able to get away with magic in Diagon Alley, Hermione had been quite envious as, staying with her parents she had no way of using her magic without the Ministry being alerted immediately.

With a flick of his wand Mordred summoned a _Daily Prophet_ one of many different Wizarding newspapers from inside his bag. Settling down on a bench on platform 9 3/4 Mordred opened the _Daily Prophet_ and started to read. It was a two-week old copy that he had taken from a coffee shop, but the reason for his reading it was not so much to keep up with the latest news, but find out about the Wizarding world and the way it was run. By the time he was three pages in, Mordred realised that he was very unlikely to find anything of interest in the paper, it was little better than gossip rag in his opinion but it would pass the time. His exploration of their station had turned out to be rather boring, after spending six weeks wandering round Diagon Alley and performing quite a bit of magic himself he was used to the sight of floating objects, moving pictures and odd animals in cages. Sometimes he wondered at the ease with which he had accepted magic, his normally quite logical mind had accepted its existence before Professor Flitwick had even performed any magic.

After an hour, he had finished reading through the _Daily Prophet _and he sighed, he had been right, sometimes he hated that, the one article with actual factual information had been the most boring out of all of them, some story about a redheaded family winning some money or something, and a trip to Egypt. The family had looked like they needed the money too, the whole families' clothes were around about the same standard as Mordred's, and he was an orphan for Merlin's sake. Even the pet rat perched on one of the younger boys shoulders had looked second hand, why they were spending the 300 galleon prize money on a trip to Egypt Mordred had no idea, the parents should buy their children some new clothes, they would last longer and probably make them happier in the long run.

Shaking his head in amusement, Mordred folded the paper and tucked it into his truck as he stood up stretching his arms over his head.

"Mordred!" Came the delighted cry from behind him, causing Mordred to spin around a huge smile spreading across his face as he realised it was Hermione. Seconds later Mordred was being thrown back a step as the girls flung her arms around him in a tight hug.

"What are you doing here this early?" He asked her as she pulled back to look at him.

"Same as you I suppose," She replied cheekily, "I dragged mum and dad here to get a look around, this place is fascinating! Did you know over there is a –"

"A man selling fairies?" Mordred interrupted with a smirk, as he looked over to where Hermione was pointing, "Yes I know, after spending _so much_ time in Diagon Alley you tend to get used to things like that."

"Owe!" he exclaimed as Hermione hit him across the head.

"Serves you right," Hermione admonished, "it's not nice to brag about things, makes you seem full of yourself, you know I would have spent just as much time there as you if I had been allowed!"

Mordred grinned and said, "Oh well, I guess I won't give you my present then."

Turning away, he picked up a newspaper and went to start reading again when a claw of a hand grabbed the top of his arm and Hermione hissed, "If you don't tell me what you're talking about right now Mordred Emrys Pendragon I am going to – What?"

Mordred chuckled as he indicated for Hermione to take the small silk bag out of his hand. Opening the bag she carefully emptied it's contents onto her hand. "It's a library disc," he said as Hermione examined the golden disc about the size of her palm. When she looked at him quizzically he indicated for her to tap it with her wand, when she did the disc suddenly floated up into the air and grew to five times its original size before a pleasant female voice emanated from it, "Please state the subject of interest." At Hermione's astonished look Mordred explained, "It's like a library catalogue, it tells you every book in the Great Wizarding Library, all you have to do is tap it with your wand and say the subject of the book you're looking for, it'll then come up with a list of books that match your search and you can pick them by simply tapping your wand to it again. You can even have the books sent to you by owl post by tapping you wand to the selected books and saying_ "owl post"_. I know you've been looking forward forever to getting into the Hogwarts library, but I'm pretty sure that it's not going to have the kind of selection that the great library does so when the librarian their suggested that I get one, I got one for you as well. It will only respond to your wand now that you've touched it, it's like a personal library card and will keep track of all the books you borrowed and will grow warm when they are due back as well."

Hermione, who had been fascinatingly looking through all the categories of book she could get her hands on slowly turned to Mordred and said, "Do you know how much I love you right now?"

Mordred laughed, "I'm starting to get an inkling, I –" just that moment, a loud whistling sound permeated the station and from the place where the tracks ended a huge black tunnel appeared, a humongous black steam train came hurtling out of it, coming to a stop right in front of the two astonished children. Huge gold and silver letters proclaimed it to be the _Hogwarts Express_.

Hermione and Mordred could see children already on the train, and presumed they had gotten on at some of the earlier stops.

"Shall we get on then?" Mordred asked, getting up and pulling his trunk up beside him. Hermione smiled and nodded, turning to her parents and giving each a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll write to you as soon as I know which house I'm in," she promised them with a small indulgent smile as she picked up… a cat basket?

"Hermione what is that?" Mordred asked in confusion as he pointed out the cat basket now in Hermione's hands.

"Oh!" She squealed excitedly, holding the cat carrier to Mordred's eyelevel, "isn't he beautiful? We went by Diagon alley on the way here, I changed up some of my birthday money to go get an owl but this little guy sort of called to me and I just couldn't resist."

The saying beauty is in the eye of the beholder was never more true than at that moment Mordred thought as he looked at the _beautiful_… thing. On closer examination, Mordred determined that it was in fact a cat. Covered with thick long ginger fur, with bright yellow eyes, a squashed face and spitting angrily at being in such a confined space, it reminded Mordred more the caged tiger than anything else.

"Oh, don't worry Crookshanks, I'll let you out on the train darling , it'll be okay, not much longer now!" Hermione crooned into the basket, "He's half kneazle you know, basically the magical equivalent of a cat. They're said to be very intelligent, are independent and occasionally aggressive, and have an uncanny ability to detect suspicious and distrustful people."

Mordred nodded absentmindedly, "That also have the ability to lead their owner home, very useful pets to have. The problem with a kneazle though is that you can't pick them, they pick you. If a person tried to pick the kneazle not the other way around then…"

Hermione looked at Mordred in surprise, "Is that another thing you read at the library? You never wrote to me about it." Mordred nodded and Hermione opened her mouth to scold him but after a moment seemed to discard it as she turned to her parents and said a final goodbye to them.

The two friends made their way onto the train and with a bit of effort, found an empty compartment. Watching Hermione struggle as she tried to heave her trunk into the luggage rack Mordred sighed and bent down to let Crookshanks out of his basket. Once the part kneasle had slipped out of their compartment and down the corridor Mordred grinned and stood up to find Hermione still struggling with her trunk. His grin turning into a smirk, with a flick of his wand Mordred levitated both hers and his up into the luggage rack. Far from being thankful, Hermione turned and glared at him, demanding that he show her the spell. That's how it went, as the platform busied outside and hundreds more children climbed onto the train Mordred taught Hermione the spells he had been practising over the summer.

At half twelve a plump smiling witch came round the cabins with a trolley packed with all sorts of food confectionery, "Anything to eat dears?" She asked smiling toothily down at them.

Mordred smiled politely but shook his head, he never really ate much during the day, he'd had a bowl of cereal and two big pieces of toast with peanut butter for breakfast and that would be enough for him until they got to Hogwarts; besides he didn't really have the money to buy the stuff even if he wanted to. When the witch looked over at Hermione she like Mordred shook her head, explaining she had already packed her own lunch.

When the trolley witch had left, Hermione reached up into her trunk and pulled out a tiny wicker basket. Placing the basket on the table that had suddenly appeared in front of them and tapping her wand to it, the basket grew to four times its original size. At Mordred's slightly surprised expression, Hermione explained, "It's a Wizarding picnic basket," she said, opening the basket and taking out hot steaming dishes of food covered in foil, "it's quite amazing, it keeps the food in the exact same condition as when you put it into the basket. You put absolutely boiling hot food in there, it comes back out just the same way. The shrinking charm on it's also an extra feature, easy to carry as well and because it has its own magic I can use it outside Hogwarts without getting caught."

"When did you get it Hermione? If I'd known you'd come into Diagon alley I would have come to find you –" Mordred started to complain but was cut off by Hermione.

"Oh really Mordred," she said with a fond if exasperated smile, still pulling dishes out of the picnic basket, "I owl ordered it from that luggage catalogue the sales Klerk gave me when I bought my trunk. You know my parents and I do a lot of mountain walking, I thought this was a nice idea, especially when winter starts coming, having some hot food instead of cold sandwiches will be a real treat."

"Hermione…" Mordred hesitated not sure he should continue, but continuing on anyway, "now in no way am I saying your fat," Hermione stopped pulling dishes out of the basket and glared at Harry, single eyebrow raising in a command to continue speaking, "but," he went on recklessly, "how much are you expecting to eat, there are already five huge bowls of food on the table."

Instead of looking offended, Hermione laughed, "Mordred this is not all for me, this is for you as well, I remember you mentioning in one of your letters how much you liked a good lasagne when you could get a hold of it," she pulled off the file from one of the flats are looking dishes to reveal a gorgeously smelling lasagne, "my dad made some the other night so I put the rest of it in the basket," she smiled.

Mordred, now rather amused raised an eyebrow and said, "Okay, that's one dish, but there are still five others that you have yet to account for."

Hermione huffed, "Well really, you said you like lasagne but you didn't tell you what you like to have _with_ the lasagne, we have chips, salad, Jersey Royal potatoes in butter and herbs, roast vegetables and the final one is a bowl of home-made chocolate chip cookies." She said as she finished taking off the final piece of foil revealing aforementioned chocolate chip cookies, all steaming as if they had just then come out the oven.

"Hermione… this is too much, I –"

Hermione shook her head and held up her hand, "Mordred I… can trust you?" She asked earnestly, big brown eyes boring into Mordred, a pleading look on her face.

"Yes of course you can," really what else could he say when she looked at him like that.

"You're the first friend I've ever had," she said with a small sad smile as she played with a bracelet on her left wrist, "No one else ever really… understood, not my parents, not my teachers, not anybody. Finding the Wizarding world was great, all these new experiences, but the best thing that's happened to me is that I've actually got my friend back. Did you know, for my fifth birthday my mum threw a party for me, I invited everyone in my class, I gave invitations to everyone, I made sure of it… not a single one of them came. Even at five years old, I was already ostracised, made different, made a _freak_. I used to come home _screaming_ and _crying_ into my parents but they never did _anything_. I never understood, now I do. They couldn't do anything because the thing that made me different, made me a freak was something they couldn't change. I'm a witch, of course I wouldn't fit in with muggles, I'd already been performing accidental magic, making things levitated fly across the room, summoning things to me, I even…" She hesitated, as if debating whether to go on, meeting Mordred I she took a deep breath and continued in a whisper, "I even hurt someone; there were a group of girls in my class, they used to pull my hair, push me over, kick dirt in my face, spill things on me, then claim it was an accident. So now I want to share this with you Mordred, you're my friend and friends share things, so you can't say no."

Mordred smiled, "No, I suppose I can't," he said with a smile.

"Oh my God," Mordred groaned, "I don't think I've ever eaten so much in my life, it hurts."

"When it serves you right for stuffing your face with enough food to last you for three days," Hermione laughed as she repacked the food they hadn't eaten "I mean you'd swear you were starved." When Mordred didn't answer, Hermione's eyes went wide, "Mordred… they don't –"

Mordred looked up at her, "Oh, no Hermione, they don't starve me… I just… well…" he trailed off not sure how to continue but after a moment deciding to tell the whole story.

"You remember when we were four and the fire happened," at Hermione's nod he continued, "I was the only survivor in the house at the time and all the kids looked at me weirdly after that. There was only one other kid from our home left but he wasn't in the house at the time of the fire. So naturally we went to a new foster home together. The problem was that he had been bullying me," Mordred confessed in a low voice as he looked out the window at the blurred countryside, "He'd … he'd done some horrible things to me but …" Mordred sighed, "I made a knife fly across the room and stab him, I didn't mean to. Ever since then every child I came across would avoid me even more than they normally did, before they just shouted nasty names at me, but from that point on they just ignored me. I think the word got around the Foster homes about what I did, and then through them it got into the schools in general. No one was able to prove what happened, there wasn't even a fingerprint on the knife and they found us just seconds after it happened. The police thought the boy had simply slipped onto it somehow. But they knew I was different, the children knew, they called me Devil Child."

Hearing a sniff Mordred turned and was surprised to see Hermione with tears shining in her eyes, he gave her a smile, "So anyway it makes it pretty uncomfortable to eat with people, so I tend to avoid it as much as possible. Unfortunately that's harder than it sounds, there always seems to be someone in the kitchen so I don't really have the chance to cook food for myself, I normally just grab something cold, have some bread, cereal, things that are easy and quick to make and take away with me. Unfortunately, it doesn't really make for a nutritional or particularly tasty meal."

"Oh," Hermione said with a somewhat unreadable expression on her face, "I –"

"GET THAT BLOODY CAT AWAY FROM MY RAT!" came an enraged scream from outside their compartment.

Both Hermione and Mordred's eyes widened and they looked at each other apprehensively, "You don't think…" Hermione trailed off.

"I'm sure it's not," Mordred said, but there was a worried look on his face all the same. As if by some unspoken signal both he and Hermione leapt to their feet and wrenched open the compartment door. Looking down the corridor it wasn't hard to spot Crookshanks, a big ginger mass of fur stalking hissing and spitting toward a gangly redheaded boy holding onto a terrified looking rat. Mordred thought the boy looked vaguely familiar and he recalled the article he had read earlier about the family that one the Ministry of Magic prize money, this boy was one of those children.

"Crookshanks get back here now!" Hermione said in a loud commanding voice, drawing the attention of all the curious onlookers from the redheaded boy to her. As Mordred expected, the cat didn't budge but kept on growling at the redheads like Hermione hadn't even spoken.

Hermione shout had also drawn the attention of the redheaded boy with his rat, and suddenly Hermione was under the scrutiny of a pair of watery blue eyes, "GET THAT BLOODY DISGUSTING THING AWAY FROM MY RAT OR I'LL BLOODY CHOP ITS TAIL OFF!"

Hermione started and looked at the boy in astonishment, her face quickly turning into a sneer, "Are you that dull that you don't understand the natural pecking order; my pet is a cat, yours is a rat, cat's eat rats. You brought a rat to a school filled with cats and you expected it to survive?" Hermione scoffed in disbelief.

The boys face turned red as some of the students snickered and laughed, "Scabbers is ill!" The redheaded boy scowled , holding up a thin greying rat with terrified looking eyes, "He doesn't need any of this, he needs relaxation and rest. What does he get instead, a huge clawed beast pouncing on him when he was just exploring the corridors!"

Hermione looked unimpressed, "Just because you can't keep your pets safe and look after him doesn't mean you get to blame me when he finds himself in trouble."

"Shut up! Scabbers has been in my family for nine years and he doesn't deserve to be trodden on by some foul smelling… creature," the redhead yelled.

"Is this how you make friends?" Mordred asked in disgust from where he had leaned against the side of the train, "You're not very good at it are you? Besides even magical rats don't usually live longer than eight years, he's probably stick because he's dying and by the looks of him there's not an ounce of magic in him"

"_Shut Up_, SHUT UP! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME YOU STUPID BLOODY BASTARD!" The redhead screamed Mordred and jolted forward as if to grab Mordred, but Mordred was too quick, grabbing the boys of shirt and swinging him round slamming him against the side of the train with his wand pointed at the boys throat.

"You know, it's a good thing I don't _know_ if your statement is false, or I'd be incredibly offended right about now… Weasley," Mordred whispered menacingly into the boy's ear, tagging his name on the end for extra effect as he remembered the name in the article, "As it is I'm only mildly annoyed with you, so I'll let this insult slip, next time you might not be so lucky."

"I hope Black gets you," the Weasley muttered under his breath, and though Hermione gasped, Mordred ignored him as he dropped the slightly stunned looking boy, marched forward to grab a still growling Crookshanks, twisted him over his shoulder and made his way back to Hermione.

Seated back in the compartment, Crookshanks surprisingly curled up on Mordred's lap and Hermione felt obliged to go off on a rant about ill-mannered bad tempered redheaded bastards, blushing when Mordred gave her a slightly amused look, making a gesture toward his own hair.

"Oh shut up Mordred," Hermione said with a scowl, "Your hair is nothing like his, his is horrible and ginger, yours… it's so many different shades, I think there's even some purple in there, completely different."

Mordred laughed, "Thanks Hermione," he said sarcastically, "For a second there I was actually worried. Hey, what was that git talking about, who's Black?"

Hermione gaped at Mordred, "You don't know? What have you been doing in the Wizarding world all this time, picking daisies and running around in Lala land? It was even on the muggle news, don't tell me you don't follow the muggle news."

Mordred shook his head absentmindedly, "I don't really, you see the TV in a foster home is normally a very coveted object, there are normally at least two or three kids watching it at any one time. You know my aversion to spending time with them, if I can help it, I avoid them as much as possible, which includes avoiding the TV."

Hermione nodded in sympathy and her eyes widened as if just remembering something. She jumped up, pulling a _Daily Prophet _out of her own trunk above her head. "Read it, it'll explain everything," she insisted, pulling a book out of her trunk.

Mordred looked back down at the paper in his hands, the sunken dark eyes of Sirius Black, the only thing about the man that seem to be alive staring back at him. Long strands of ratty tangled hair hung down on either side framing a long aristocratic face. The man was undoubtedly good-looking, but his handsomeness was severely spoiled by the gaunt, waxy, pale look his face had taken on.

Looking at down at the article that accompanied, absently noting that it was dated two days ago, Mordred started to read:

_BLACK STILL AT LARGE_

_Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today._

_"We are doing all we can to recapture Black," said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm."_

_Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis._

_"Well, really, I had to, you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic and Muggle alike. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it - who'd believe him if he did?"_

_While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse._

Looking back at the picture Mordred studied the man more closely, although he was shouting angrily, there was something in his eyes that spoke of great sadness, the man was suffering Mordred could tell and it wasn't because he had been caught and was being arrested.

"He murdered thirteen people with one curse?" Mordred asked Hermione in disbelief.

"Yes, it's rather hard to believe isn't it," she said with a shudder, "It was in broad daylight as well, the man is insane."

"I suppose…" Mordred trailed off, he didn't really think Black was insane, there wasn't insanity in his eyes, "When are we supposed to arrive anyway?"

Hermione reached into her jeans and pulled out a small pocket watch, "Let's see… it's a twelve hour train ride you know," she looked at her watch and eyes widened, "Gosh, it's already six o'clock, where has the time gone? We should be there about three hours."

Mordred nodded, "So what's with the funky clock anyway?" He asked, pointing at the pocket watch.

Hermione shrugged "You know muggle electricity doesn't work around magic, so I had to buy a magical one, I always wanted a pocket watch so grabbed one of these instead of a wrist watch."

The next few hours passed in a blur of conversation as the train hurtled through a countryside slowly changing from flat fields, to hills, to large mountainous green rocky peaks. The weather, which had been fine and clear earlier had turned to lashing, almost gale force winds; Mordred was sure if they hadn't been in a magical train it would've been blown off the tracks by now. The sky darkened with the weather and slowly their view out of the compartment window disappeared to be replaced with a thick oppressive darkness, two lanterns within their compartment the only source of light they had.

Eventually, they found the train winding through a valley with sheer rock cliffs on either side. After about twenty minutes of winding through the rocky ravine the train started to slow down slightly and then came to a sudden screeching halt.

"We're not there yet, are we?" Mordred asked Hermione unsurely.

"No, we shouldn't be," Hermione said checking her watch once again.

"Why did we stop then?" Mordred asked, getting up and opening the compartment door to peer out, all down the corridor heads poked out of other carriages, confusion written on their faces, "Hey," Mordred asked an older looking student with fiery red hair, "Are we supposed to have stopped, we're not there yet are we?"

"No," the boy replied, "I'm going to see what the driver says, we might have hit a block, sometimes these winds blow rocks onto the track and they have to clear them." The older boy started down the corridor towards the front of the train, but then like a blanket had been thrown over Mordred's eyes, every light in the train went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

Shrieks and screams could be heard from all along the train and it took Mordred a moment to remember his wand, "Lumos!" He said, lighting the tip as he flipped it from his wand holster.

Moving back into the compartment, Mordred found Hermione wiping the window in order to peer out, "Do you think we've broken down?"

Mordred shrugged, "One of the older boys said there might be a rockslide blocking the tracks, he was going down to the front to ask the driver when the lights went out."

Hermione nodded, "Can you make that any brighter?" She asked pointing to his wand.

"Try it yourself," Mordred said with a cheeky grin, "the incantation is –" but before Mordred could finish a sentence, the temperature in the compartment dropped dramatically and to both he and Hermione's astonishment ice started to grow on the window. Teeth chattering and breath visible, Mordred got up and reached for the compartment door but before his hand could close round the handle it slid open and there taking up the whole of the doorway was a figure covered from head to foot in a raggedy torn black cloak.

As if in a trance the creature stuck out a hand from inside its robes; skeletal long white fingers reached out and touched the cheek of a petrified Mordred. Where the fingers brushed the cold already in the compartment seemed to intensify and pierced deeper into his body, freezing his lungs and, he could have sworn, halting his beating heart.

For a moment longer the creature caressed Mordred's face but then there was a blinding white light from further down the corridor, the creature shrieked in apparent agony and fled. Seconds, minutes past, then both the train and the lights came careening back to life, the train speeding along as if nothing had stopped it and the train light flickered happily, seeming to give off a warmth they had previously not. Shakily Mordred sat down on the chair, happy to have his feet out from underneath him.

"What was that?" Hermione whispered hoarsely.

"I don't know," Mordred answered shakily, "I –" once again the compartment door slid open but this time instead of a huge menacing cloaked figure a worn out and tired looking man appeared.

"Is everyone okay in here?" He asked the pair, eyeing them carefully.

"What was that?" Hermione asked again, this time in an almost terrified whisper.

"A Dementor," the man said gravely, "A Dementor of Azkaban."

"The Wizarding prison?" Hermione said in confusion.

"The very same," the man nodded, "Do you have any chocolate?" He asked.

"What?" Mordred asked confused, "Um… No, no we don't."

Reaching into his pocket the man pulled from his pocket two packets and handed them to the pair, "Chocolate Frogs, be careful, if you don't they'll jump away."

Both looked at each other warily for opening the package and taking out is struggling chocolate frog. With one last nervous look at Hermione, Mordred bit into the confection and to his surprise, felt immediately better, "Hermione try this, it really does work," he said taking another bite.

Once both of them had eaten the sweet the man looked satisfied, "Alright then, you two should be all right now, I'm going to check on the other students, please stay in the carriage compartment." Saying that he was gone, off down the corridor.

Sometime later they emerged from the ravine and found themselves surrounded by houses of all shapes, sizes and types. A voice echoed through the train: "We will be arriving at Hogsmead station in five minutes' time. Please change into your school robes and leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately. The staff of the Hogwarts Express thank you for travelling with us at Rail Pennyfether today and we hope to see you all very soon."

Mordred and Hermione looked at each other for a moment, "I'll leave if you need to change," Mordred offered as he gathered his robes from his trunk.

Hermione shook her head as she slid off her jumper and jeans to reveal a black petticoat and a pair of thick tights she had been wearing underneath, "I can just put my robes on over this," she said and proceeded to do just that. Nodding, Mordred slid his own jumper off leaving him in only black trousers and a black vest top; he managed to slip his robes on just in time for the train to pull up at the station platform. Hermione and Mordred slid their wands into the holsters strapped to their arms then pushed their way out of their compartment toward the train door. It was virtually black outside, the light from the train and a few gas lamps were all that lit the small platform. As the older students made their way from the platform, the prefects showing the first years where to go a lamp came bobbing over their heads and a loud rough booming voice shouted: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

Hermione grabbed Mordred's hand in an attempt not to lose him in the crowd of bustling students and the two made their way towards where the voice had come from. As they got closer the large form of a man started to appear from the gloom. "C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" The giant called. Not a single feature was visible on the man's face, the glint from the lamp as is caught his eyes was the only thing that stood out from the mound of wiry black curly hair that covered his head and shoulders. A huge long coat that looked as if it was made of some animal hide brushed the floor and swayed stiffly as the man turned and led them down a steep narrow path leaving a horrible stench in his wake.

It was so dark as the first years slipped and stumbled their way after the giant that Mordred took out his wand and cast a _lumos_, throwing it up into the air to illuminate the area. As the light fell in their surroundings, the first years realised they had been walking through a heavily wooded area. Huge spidery trees towered over them on either side of the path, reaching branches out like clawed pincers to snag at their robes and after the initial cries of delight at being able to see where they were walking nobody spoke much, too unnerved by the deathly silence around them.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the giant called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

On cue the trees suddenly fell away to reveal a huge expanse of black water, the surface so still it was like a mirror, reflecting the beauty of the stars and the yellow lights of huge towers that cut into the sky like stalagmites, blotting out the stars brilliance and replacing it with its own awe-inspiring beauty. There, perched at the top of a mountain cliff on the opposite side of the lake was a gargantuan castle, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"No more'n four to a boat!" The giant called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore, each with its own little lantern shining brightly at the head of the boat. Mordred and Hermione were content to wait as the rest of the first years eagerly pushed and shoved to get into the boats first and as such climbed into one of the last in the fleet. They were quickly followed by a very nervous looking round faced boy who was clutching a toad in his hands like his life depended on it.

"Everyone in?" the giant man shouted, who to Mordred's amusement had a boat all to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!" And with that the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, not even a ripple marring the glassy surface.

"His name is Trevor," the chubby boy said after a moment of the three of them staring up at the castle ahead, "I lost him on the train and I'm so worried about losing him again… I'm always losing things," he finished with a scowl.

"You need a tracker bracelet," Mordred said to the boy absently as they sailed nearer to the cliff face on which Hogwarts stood, "apparently they're very good for knowing where things are, though they cost a pretty penny."

The boy frowned, "I've never heard of a tracker bracelet before and believe me, my Gran has tried everything to help me."

"It's a new creation by a wizard named Audun Jeppedal, here," Mordred said finally pulling his attention away from the castle to grab a fountain pen out of his robe pocket. He wrote the wizard's name on the boy's hand, "Ask your Gran about getting you one. Like I said they do cost but if you are really as bad as you make yourself out to be then maybe it's worth it."

For the first time the boy's face split into a genuine smile, "Thank you, I'm Neville Longbottom by the way," he said holding out his hand for Mordred to shake.

"Mordred Emrys Pendragon," introduced himself holding out his hand with a smile on his face which quickly fell away as he took in Neville's expression. "Is there something wrong Neville?" He asked as he eyed the boy in concern.

"You should –"

"Heads down!" yelled the giant and Mordred turned away from Neville in time to see the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them into a narrow low ceilinged opening at the bottom of the cliff. The boats sailed through dark winding tunnels, seeming to know instinctively which way to go through the watery pathways that seemed to lead off in different directions at every turn.

"These caves were used as a defence in the castle's earlier days," Hermione said her face glowing with excitement in the lantern light, "the boats don't lead us, they don't have any mind of their own, only if the person in the boat knows where they're going will we be guided through the maze. If you take the right passages you can go right under the castle and out the other side. At one point every witch and wizard knew how to do it, or at least knew how to figure out how to do it. Then Merlin wiped the knowledge from the people's minds and now it's a closely guarded secret, only a few people know the way through and no one knows how to figure the way out by themselves. Most people have only been through these tunnels once when they first come to Hogwarts in their first year."

"I think the secret wanted to be lost," Neville said from behind them, causing both Mordred and Hermione to turn to him in surprise.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked in confusion and frustration, she hated when someone knew something she didn't.

"W-Well th-the- the castle wasn't always Hogwarts," he stuttered, "What he was saying, about every witch and wizard knowing the way through the maze, well that was when this castle wasn't Hogwarts, that was when this castle was Camelot."

"What?" Both Hermione and Mordred exclaimed at the same time.

"You mean to tell me, that we're sailing under Camelot?" Mordred asked in disbelief.

"Well yes," Neville said with a frown, "I don't understand, you two seemed to know so much, I thought you would know that."

Hermione scoffed, "Well I think someone neglected a certain area of his studies, didn't he Mordred," she said shooting a scolding look at her friend.

Mordred eyes widened, "You're blaming me for this, you're mad at me for not knowing something?" He asked in disbelief.

"Well of course," Hermione said in annoyance, "I ate up every word you wrote to me over the summer, everything you researched I read meticulously, you were my source of information. The fact that you could miss the tiny incy wincy little detail such as the fact that we're going to be living in Camelot is a pretty big deal because it means that I don't know something important."

Mordred scowled, "Well I'm sorry, I read _Hogwarts; A Foundation and up _as well as _Hogwarts; A history_, both said that the four founders _built_ Hogwarts, how could they _build_ it if it used to be Camelot?"

Hermione frowned, opened her mouth to reply but then snapped it shut when she realised she didn't know. Turning to Neville she gave him a look of it seemed to demand he answer her.

Neville opened his mouth and started to stutter out an answer but at that moment their boat came to a sudden jolting stop. Looking over Hermione's shoulder Mordred realised that they had just reached a kind of underground harbour; the rest of the first years were clamouring out of their boats onto rocks and pebbles of the shore.

"Basically Merlin called this castle Camelot," Neville said as they got out of the boat, picking up in what he was going to say to the pair earlier; "then when the founders wanted to open a school Merlin gave it to them as it wasn't being used very much. If you want to learn more about it, you really need to read _Magic; The Beginning _or even_ Merlin; A Long Life, _the second would probably be better if you want to know about Merlin and his accomplishments specifically."

"Everyone out of the boats?" asked the giant as he walked to the front of the group of first years. When he received a few affirmative nods he turned on his heel, "Follow me then," he shouted over his shoulder as he started climbing up a set of huge stone steps that spiralled up into the ceiling of the cave. Climbing for about a minute they finally reached a vast cavernous chamber with a huge set of oak double doors.

The giant walked up and banged on the door with his massive fist three times and the door swung open almost immediately, revealing a tall, slim, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes, a stern look on her face as she surveyed the first years in front of her.

"The firs' years, McGonagall," said the giant.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She said, addressing the giant Mordred now knew to be _Hagrid_.

With a slight bow to Professor McGonagall Hagrid lumbered forward and pushed open the huge double doors revealing the entrance hall to Hogwarts, a chamber so big Mordred thought one could of easily fit Mrs Maggs entire house within and still have room to walk around it quite comfortably. Massive stone pillars that reminded Mordred of the trees they had passed in the Forest stood all round the edges of the room bracing to support a ceiling so far up it was invisible, shrouded in shadows as it was. Torches in brackets and on stands were dotted around the chamber glowing green, blue, red and every other colour of the rainbow throwing a multitude of flickering colours across the faces of the children. The most impressive lighting feature was the massive roughly cut gemstone suspended above their heads that seemed to magnify and enhance the light of the torches.

Two magnificent staircases on either side led to the upper floors and down the slight hallway behind another set of massive double doors Mordred could hear the sound of thousands of voices.

Instead of leading them towards the door as Mordred had expected Professor McGonagall to do, she led the first years into a small, empty chamber to the side of the large noisy double doors. It was to the entertainment of both Hermione and Mordred that they realised most of the first years were standing rather closer together and they usually would have, all peering round nervously as if expecting someone to jump out on them.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall in a voice far too stern for Mordred's liking, "The start-of-term feast will begin momentarily, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Mordred heard someone ask; he turned and found himself facing a short dark haired boy with an Irish accent and the redheaded boy Crookshanks had attacked earlier on the train.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." The redheaded boy said, the little to no conviction in his voice prove just how nervous and unsure he was.

Mordred sighed, he hated wilful ignorance, "If –" he started to answer but was interrupted immediately by a slightly familiar voice.

"Do you know Weasley, that you and your brother are probably the most pathetic incompetent purebloods I have ever met?" It was the boy from Diagon Alley, Mordred recognised the blonde he and Hermione had met in Madam Malkins, "you haven't even started school and already you don't know something that you should. Every true pureblood is taught what happens during the sorting ceremony, if you had bothered to even listen to your teachers… oh, I'm sorry I forgot the Weasley's are so poor they can't afford a teacher, did your mummy have to teach you everything? You see this," he pulled out a quill from inside his pocket and waved it around in front of the boy whose face was slowly turning the colour of his hair, "it's for writing things down, that's when you take it in your hand dip in an ink bottle and make lines of pretty patterns across the paper that other people can understand."

Mordred smirked at the blonde, maybe he has little more in common with the daddies boy after all, "What are you smiling at?" Said boy demanded, "I don't care if you're having a fight with your brother at the moment and find my comments amusing, you are just as ignorant and stupid as he is, if not more so, at least he doesn't hang out with mudbloods!"

Mordred frowned for a second, but the moment he understood what the boy was implying he chuckled and shot an amused look at Hermione. Seeing that she too had understood the blondes mistake they both threw their heads back and laughed.

"What's so funny?" The blond snarled, cutting through the pair's amusement like a knife and causing them to abruptly stop laughing to glare at him.

"What makes you think that _I_ am related to _that_?" Mordred asked as he eyed the Weasley boy up and down in disgust.

Turning back to the other boy, Mordred caught the blonde sneering at him, "Isn't it obvious?"

Mordred lifted an unimpressed eyebrow, "I must admit, no it isn't obvious, unless you are referring to the colour of my hair?" He turned to Hermione, "Does my hair really look like his, were you lying to me on the train?" He asked her in a mournful tone making his eyes huge for a puppy dog like effect.

Hermione, to her credit did not give even a twitch of the lips as she made a show of examining his hair and Weasley's saying in a dramatically reassuring voice, "Mordred, I can safely say even in the dim light that your hair is completely different from that flaming ball of orange mess."

Weasley's face turned redder than it had already been, "Then it must be my facial features," Mordred exclaimed in horror, his knees weakening as he crumpled to the floor, his hands going to cover his face, "Don't look at me, it's awful!" He wailed.

Around him, Mordred could hear some snickers, giggles and outright laughter from some of the other students, "Oh Mordred, do not despair," Hermione cried in an even more dramatic tone than before, "Your features are far too fair to be compared with that caveman like a visage."

Mordred made a show of looking up at Hermione with hope in his eyes, "Then is it my voice? If it is I shall never speak again! "He declared dramatically.

Hermione shook her head solemnly, "No Mordred, your voice is a fair as any minstrel, not to be compared with that howling wine."

"My manners then, it must be my manners I –

"Mordred, please Mordred my dear, do not feel that you are in anyway like that horrid creature." She pleaded, and Mordred was impressed to see tears collecting in her eyes, she was really putting her all into this.

"Very well," Mordred rose on shaky legs to his feet and then like the flick of a switch straightened, turned and glared at the blonde boy, "If that is all true," he took a step forward and looked into the boys eyes, "I would have thought a _smart pureblood_ like yourself would have been able to deduce that we have no familiar relation."

The blondes eyes narrowed slightly, and he looked about to come up with some scathing retort when the chamber door banged open, "Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned and one by one until only Hermione, Mordred the blonde and Weasley were left.

"Come along now Mr Weasley, Mr Malfoy, Mr… Weasley?" Professor McGonagall said the last word with some confusion, "I thought there was only one Weasley starting this year, I did not know Molly had had twins again."

Mordred snarled, but realising he was talking to his new authority figure took a deep cleansing breath before saying, "Forgive me Professor McGonagall, but I am not related to Mr Weasley in anyway shape or form that I know of." Knowing that with Professor McGonagall was watching them neither of the two others were going to try anything Mordred turned on his heel and swept out of the room after the other students with Hermione following just slightly behind him.

Lining up just outside the doors of what Mordred now knew to be the Great Hall he watched Professor McGonagall swept past him down the line and with a wave of her wand had the doors flying open in a grand gesture revealing one of the most awe-inspiring sights Mordred had ever seen.

The Great Hall was massive; easily twice the size of any cathedral Mordred had ever been in with thousands upon thousands of floating candles and torches everywhere. Four huge long tables spanned the length of the Hall covered with silver platters, bone white china plates, sparkling cutlery and crystal goblets. Right at the end was a raised platform the staff table where the teachers sat proudly surveying the new students as they piled in. Looking up Mordred was ecstatic to see with his very own eyes the enchanted ceiling he had read about .Clear as the night had become all the stars were visible and it was as if the ceiling did not exist at all merely faded and became part of the beautiful night sky.

Looking back down at the assembled students Mordred spotted misty silvery white figures in amongst the pink cheeked students and realised these were the Hogwarts ghosts, Nearly Headless Nick, the Bloody Baron and the Fat Friar were a few he could recognise by the descriptions of them he'd read. When they reached the end of the Hall the first-year students stopped and watched as Professor McGonagall took out a three legged stool and held up a black, faded frayed, dusty, dirty, patched and altogether past it's prime looking wizard hat. The Sorting Hat, he'd read about this thing; originally no one was sorted until second year because the teachers had had to observe the students personalities in order to pick which house they fitted into most. Unfortunately, fights broke out because of disputes between where children should be placed and it was an ingenious idea that led to the Sorting Hat being created. Originally belonging to Godric Gryffindor the hat had been enchanted by the four founders to be able to look through a child's memories. For the next seven years the founders wore the hat periodically and the hat absorbed and catalogued the personality traits of each. To finish off the hat was given the ability to speak and numerous secrecy charms were placed on it to stop it from revealing the secrets it found within each child head. From then on at the start of each child's first year the hat was placed on their child's head to look through the child's memories and decided which founder the child was most like , therefore picking the child's House.

Coming out of his daze Mordred looked back to where Professor McGonagall had placed the hat upon the stool, the whole school seem to hold their breath as a large rip about a third of the way up opened and… the hat started to sing;

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindor's apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their desired ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song, but Mordred couldn't help feeling rather unimpressed as it bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. By all accounts the only thing the Sorting Hat did was pick which house the students would go in each year, the rest of it was spent on some shelf in the Head's office, it probably wrote the rhymes simply to pass the time.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" He heard Weasley whisper to his companion. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Rolling his eyes at Hermione he watched Professor McGonagall step forward, "When I call your name's," she announced in a loud voice to the Hall, "you will come up, sit on the stool and I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head for you to be sorted. Hannah Abbott!"

Mordred watched with interest as a small round faced girl with blonde curly pigtails lurched forward nervously, sat down on the stool and the Sorting Hat was placed on air head, falling so low as to cover her eyes. There was a moment's pause before the sorting Hat shouted

"_HUFFLEPUFF!_"

The table on the far right hand side of the Hall cheered as the pink faced Hannah Abbott made her way over there.

"Amelia Abhenry!" Professor McGonagall called and so it went on, students were called up, they sat on the stool, the hat fell over their eyes as it was placed on their head and then it shouted out the name of their new house to the cheering students, Mordred got bored _very_ quickly.

"Hermione Granger!" Professor McGonagall shouted, jolting Mordred back to reality. He gave Hermione's hand squeeze and an encouraging smile which she wobbly returned before taking a breath and starting up to the stool. Like all the other she sat down and the hat fell over her head, but unlike the others the Hat _did not_ call out her house seconds later. For a whole minute Hermione sat there, Mordred thought he could almost detect the minute shake of her head and the twitching of her lips as she whispered something until suddenly –

"_SLYTHERIN!_"

The Hall went deathly silent, the Slytherin table that had before welcomed all new members of the house with clapping and dignified smiles suddenly broke out in whispers and every student on a table turned towards the older students toward the back of the Hall. Hermione who had risen from the stool and made a first step towards Slytherin table had frozen in place, uncertain of her welcome there. Thankfully, an older student with black hair at the very back of the hall started clapping and like a pebble in a pond a subdued applause started to ripple out engulfing the table. Hermione seemed to breathe a slight sigh of relief as she made her way over to the end of the table but it was short lived because no sooner had she sat down than every member of the house shuffled away from her slightly as if she were a leper. None of the other houses would notice but Mordred saw. The movement was to subtle and no one was really paying attention, all too preoccupied with the next student being sorted; but to anyone who was looking, it was abundantly apparent that Hermione was anything but welcome in her new house.

The sorting carried on, Mordred noted that the blonde Malfoy child was sorted into Slytherin and his dislike of Hermione was clear enough, as he sat down he sneered at her moving as far away as he possibly could.

After Hermione, Mordred started mentally counting the students that had been sorted into each house, Twenty-seven for Hufflepuff, twenty-four for Ravenclaw, sixteen for Gryffindor and thirteen for Slytherin when McGonagall shouted-

"Mordred Pendragon,"

The hall burst out into speculative whispers, some people glancing up and giving him scrutinising looks. Completely confused Mordred made his way up the steps of the front platform and over to the Sorting Hat stool. Professor McGonagall placed the hat over his head and like everybody else the hat fell over his eyes.

_Hello_, said a voice reverberating through his head, _now you are an interesting one! Lots of courage, but… Hmm, well you're not just interesting your also incredibly difficult child, so like your friend, completely ignorant of your true roots, courageous, incredibly intelligent, I had a hard time placing her as well, I –_

_What do you mean?_ Mordred asked sharply, _Completely ignorant of my roots? How on earth is that like Hermione? Does that mean you know who I am?_

_Oh child, of course I know who you are, you remember everything from the day you were found, do you not?_ Whispered the voice

_Yes_, Mordred answered in confusion, _I have an eidetic memory but what has that got to do with anything?_

_Simply this child, have you never wondered why you cannot remember anything before that point, there is a block but I am the _Sorting Hat_ and it does not hinder me, I can see what you cannot, I can say that you are not what you appear. This is very hard, do you have a preference of where you would wish to be – _

_You are incredibly smart, you would rule over Ravenclaw in a very short time with a mind like that at your disposal. Of course there is your incredible courage, Gryffindor would welcome you with open arms and a family for life would be yours for the taking. Your loyalty is beyond extraordinary considering what you've been through, Hufflepuff – no, you are not for Hufflepuff, though you can love it is not the way they love, you're not trusting enough, you are not loyal the way they are, you need a reason to be loyal to people were as Hufflepuff's do not. Cunning child that is a trait you have plenty of, Slytherin's can work through problems faster than any, if you wish to know who you are Slytherin would be the best. The road would be long and hard, you would not find immediate acceptance there as you would with the other houses._

_Oh but I'm running away with myself on the subject, I give you a choice of three child, rule over Ravenclaw with an iron mind, dazzle a wonderful Gryffindor family for life with your courage or use Slytherin cunning and smarts to find your true self, it is up to you child, pick wisely._

Mordred sighed, _That is not really a choice is it Hat? There's only one thing I want above all others._

_At the moment there is only one thing you want, but think about what you will want_ after _you find what you have been searching for, do you want a kingdom, a family, riches, what do you want once you've found what you crave?_

_I've made my choice Hat; _Mordred thought decidedly,_ your ramblings will not change it_.

_Very well it shall be as you wish_…

"_SLYTHERIN!_"

This time, the subdued clapping was immediate; Mordred made his way over to his new house, but each scooted away from him as he sat by Hermione and promptly went back to ignoring the both of them.

"Mordred why –" Hermione began to ask but Mordred cut her off.

"We are muggleborn's Hermione, or at least you are, my affiliation with you plus- I think- the fact that my name is not that of a pureblood means I too am outcast." He gave a brief smile, "But don't worry Hermione, we'll show them."

Hermione gave him a wobbly smile, "Mordred," she whispered uncertainly, "The Sorting Hat… it said that I belonged _here_ with my _brethren_… But…" She gestured round at the table; each and every person at the Slytherin table was ignoring their presence, "What did the Sorting Hat say to you, you were there for almost ten minutes?" Mordred could almost feel the attention of the table peak, for some reason he was an item of interest to the Slytherin's in a way Hermione was not.

"Later," he said to Hermione just loud enough for the others to hear and indicated the table at large. Startled, Hermione looked up around the table and noticed the added interest her question had caused. Turning back to Mordred Hermione gave him a nod of understanding and the two turned back to the Sorting Hat just in time to see it put Weasley in Gryffindor.

By the end of the sorting there were thirty-two new Slytherin's, thirty-six new Ravenclaw's, thirty-five new Gryffindor's and forty new Hufflepuff's. Each table happily chatted amongst themselves, sometimes calling over to friends on different tables, the Gryffindor's were the loudest, the Hufflepuff's smiled the most, the Ravenclaw's held the most intelligent conversations and the Slytherin's were the most dignified, all in all it was exactly what Hogwarts was supposed to be.

The chatter went on for about five minutes before an old man Mordred recognised as Albus Dumbledore got to his feet, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!" Saying that, he sat back down and suddenly food materialised on every platter up the middle of each house table. Everybody clapped and cheered, Mordred turned to Hermione and raised an eyebrow.

"I thought he was supposed to be brilliant?" He asked uncertainly shooting questioning looks up at the headmaster.

"Genius often comes hand-in-hand with madness," Hermione said with a laugh, "Though this time I think I understand, "Nitwit, it's the way Ravenclaw see the rest of us, as dumber than them, nitwits –"

"Oh I see, then you have Blubber. Gryffindor is supposed to be the most sport orientated house as well as the house with the bravest people," Mordred laughed at Hermione surprised expression, "Blubber is also another word for fat, they see us as lazy and fat, as well as another word for crying, they see us as weak and cowardly." With a wave of his hand Mordred indicated that Hermione should do the next one.

"Oddment," Hermione intoned with a laugh as if she were a pompous teacher reciting a passage from the book, "Hufflepuff is said to be the most normal, level-headed house, they would see the extreme polar personalities the other three houses have as an oddity, or oddment."

"And last but certainly not least, Tweak. Slytherin's are all about perfection, blood purity, they say the other three houses as imperfect and would love to be able to _tweak_ them to make them perfect." Mordred finished with a smile as his friend. "In other words the headmaster just gave a huge speech about the differences between the houses and the personality traits we are about to take on by being sorted into said houses… in only four words."

Hermione nodded with a laugh, "I can live without I suppose, so long as he doesn't bring any of it near me."

Here," Mordred agreed, "Although on the subject of speeches, after McGonagall's about how we spend every waking moment with our housemates, I'm starting to wonder whether the Hat is loony putting us in Slytherin."

Hermione frowned, "How so?" she asked.

"Think about it Hermione, two muggleborn's in an otherwise completely pureblood house isn't exactly the best thing for said muggleborn's health is it? Putting everyone into houses, it must put a lot of strain on friendship with students from other houses, I mean we hardly have any chance to communicate with the other houses apart from in lessons."

Hermione looked up and down the Slytherin table, "I suppose we'll just have to wait and see what they do," she said, her face turning anxious, "I doubt they will do anything too extreme, we are their housemates after all."

Mordred lifted a sceptical eyebrow, "Yes, we'll just have to wait and see," he murmured turning back to his food. The rest of the meal neither of the two new Slytherin's spoke much to each other, simply ate their meal in silence as the rest of their house talked and laughed.

Eventually the desert platters, plates and cutlery were cleared from the table, leaving only the delicate goblets behind for the students and teachers to sip from as Albus Dumbledore once again climbed to his feet.

"I would first like to say a great welcome, to all our new pupils!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight catching his eyes and making them glow. "To all our returning pupils I say good to see you again. I have a few things to say, a few start of year announcements to make to you all. First years, and a few returning redheaded pupils," his glittering eyes darted towards two redheaded pupils that must have been twins seated at the Gryffindor table, "should note that the Forbidden Forest is, as it's name suggests forbidden. Quidditch will as usual start up this year, trials will be held in two weeks, anyone interested should go to their house Quidditch captain."

Dumbledore's face, which had before sported a joyful grin now turned grave, his voice lowering in octaves as his eyes it seemed to bore through each and every student before him, "The next announcement I have is graver in nature than the previous two; as all of you must know by now the Hogwarts Express was stopped tonight while travelling through Basilisk Rift. What many of you may not be aware of however is the reason it stopped; for those of you that do not know the creatures that bordered the Hogwarts Express our called Dementors, they are Azkaban Guards. Be warned, Dementors are creatures of instinct, if you are caught by one you can plead with it all you want, it will not hear you and Dementors are not fooled by any kind of disguise, no matter what it is a Dementor will see through it so do not try to sneak past them. Do not give them a reason to find you in a vulnerable position; they are stationed at every entrance to the grounds, do not attempt to leave the grounds without permission, they will not understand, there will be no mercy -"

"Then why are they here?" Mordred's eyes widened and he turned in surprise to see one of the oldest Slytherin's climbing to his feet and glaring at the headmaster, "If the dementors are so dangerous why are you allowing them near children, why you allowing these dangerous creatures near the vulnerable and weak?"

Dumbledore turned icy eyes towards the student, "Sirius Black," he stated and it may have been Mordred's imagination but he could have sworn a satisfied glint entered the old man's eyes as the students faces paled, "As most of you know Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban this summer and Ministry has posted the dementors around Hogwarts in order to protect you." The older boy seemed to nod in satisfaction and slowly sat down though his eyes did not look as forgiving as he stared up at Dumbledore.

"As I said earlier," Dumbledore continued, "do not go out of bounds without permission, do not sneak around the castle at night, do not give the Dementors a reason to harm you and they will leave you alone. I look to our prefects, as well as the new Head Boy and Girl to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors," he said calmly, locking eyes with each and every one of the aforementioned pupils.

Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall; with a nod to himself he turned around and indicated the staff table, "On a happier note," he continued, I am pleased to welcome not one but two new professors into the fold this year. First let me introduce you to Professor Lupin, who has graciously taken the role of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was some rather half-hearted clapping from the students, especially the Slytherin's and Mordred couldn't help but understand why. It was the man from the train, Professor Lupin and like before, Mordred couldn't help but realise how shabby his new Professor looked next to the other teachers in their best robes.

"Look at that teacher!" Hermione hissed in Mordred's ear.

Following Hermione's gaze, Mordred found himself looking at a shallow, pale faced man dressed completely in black with dark greasy hair and a sneer on his face. He was staring along the staff table at the new Professor Lupin with a look of pure loathing on his face.

"Unfortunately," Dumbledore went on, "it is also my duty to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher had an accident over the summer holidays when he was preparing for this year's lessons. As a result he now only has two limbs left and decided early retirement was more tempting man taking the chance of it becoming only one limb. I therefore take great pleasure in introducing to you your new Care of Magical Creatures Professor Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

Across the Hall at the Gryffindor house table a huge wave of sound erupted threatening to blow the ceiling off great Hall with the volume of their applause; the Hufflepuff 's gave enthusiastic clapping and the Ravenclaw table looked dubious however they did clasp politely along with a new teacher, the Slytherin table was utterly silent.

"Yes, yes, yes," Dumbledore said with a smile blooming on his face as the noise in the Hall died down, the pupils attention turning back towards him, "Now that we are done with the pleasantries I think it is time that we were all off to bed, we all need to be bright eyed and bushy tailed or tomorrow –that was a muggle saying by the way," he added for most of the Hall was looking at him in confusion. "Prefects, please show the first years to your houses and tell the returning students the password for your common rooms."

Looking at the other Slytherin first years Hermione and Mordred noticed that none of them moved as the rest of the house gradually disappeared out of the Hall. In the end all that was left at the table were the first years, six prefects and the Professor dressed all in black that had been looking at Lupin with loathing earlier.

As every student eyed Hermione and Mordred way loathing, the teacher simply showed curiosity as he gazed at them, "Very well," he said, "I am Professor Severus Snape, I am your Head of House and I will also be teach you potions throughout your time here, if you will please follow the rest of the prefects and myself we will make our way down to your new accommodation," turning on his heel he started striding out of the Hall his robes billowing out behind him with such a dramatic flair Mordred wondered whether he practised.

Blinking, the students made moves to follow him and soon the Professor was leading them down into the depths of the dungeons, they were led along narrow passageways that seemed to press in on them even as they walked by, wide-open passageways, dark gloomy ones where the shadows seemed to actually reach out and try to grab them as they passed and even passageways that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Eventually however, Professor Snape came to a standstill in front of the plane stone wall, there was nothing special about the wall from what Mordred could see, there were no markings or anything else to indicate that the wall had any kind of significant purpose.

Snape turned towards them all and eyed each and every one of them, lingering a little longer on Hermione and Mordred, "The Sorting Hat is an ancient magical object," he started slowly, his low baritone voice bouncing off the walls around them, "It's ability is to read every thought, site, smell, every sensation you ever experienced it is able to see, whether you yourself remember it or not. The sorting Hat has the ability to make a logical informed decision as to where you should be placed, the only problem with that is being sorted into Slytherin, you must be pure of blood, from a long line of witches and wizards from equal lineage. The Sorting Hat, though able to see who raised you, cannot see who sired you, it cannot see who's blood you have. Salazar Slytherin knew this when they decided to create the Sorting Hat, he knew that even if a child was sorted into his house that there was still a probability, however small, that the child would not be a pureblood, he therefore devised another test unknown to the rest of the founders to weed out those unworthy to be in his house."

Professor Snape indicated the wall he stood in front of, and with a wave of his wand a small sharp needle appeared in the hand of every first-year student "If you are worthy, if you are a pureblood when you prick your finger smear the blood on the wall your family tree will appear and you will be able to enter. If not," his eyes slid once again to Mordred and Hermione, "then we will be going up to the headmaster's office way you will be resorted. Throughout the whole of the history of the school there have only been seven resortings, five of which belong to Slytherin, five of which occurred on the very day they were sorted into Slytherin in the first place. Now, in alphabetical order I want you all to step up prick your finger and smear the blood on the wall."

Mordred and Hermione exchanged worried looks as Amelia Abney pricked her finger and confidently walked forward, smearing the blood on the wall. As soon as the red liquid came in contact with the stone surface glowing lines of green and silver shot out from the point she had touched creating a beautifully glowing family tree.

When she looked back at the professor, the question on her lips as to what to do next he simply said to her, "Walk through into the common room Miss Abney," he said with a slight bow to her. With a regal nod she took a deep breath and with very little hesitation walked through the wall.

Mordred and Hermione watched with growing apprehension and anxiety as eight more students smeared their blood on the wall, looked at their family tree and stepped through the wall without any incident… then the professor called Hermione's name.

With one last fearful look at Mordred Hermione step forward and with a shaking hand pricked her finger. Reaching out slowly, the moment her blood came into contact with the stone, the wall went mad; instead of being able to pull away like the others had when they touched the wall with their blood Hermione's whole hand was suddenly stuck to the wall. She screamed in pain as long glowing lines of powerful green and silver reached out from beneath where her hand touched the wall and wrapped around her, before rearing back and plunging into her flesh.

"Hermione!" Mordred screamed and made to move towards friend but suddenly felt two thin arms wrap around him in restraint, "Don't be stupid Pendragon," Draco Malfoy hissed in his ear and Mordred felt a shudder go through his body at the whispered words, "you don't know what would happen if you touched her right now!"

In the next second it was over, Hermione's hand fell to her side as the magical tendrils disappeared into her body and her breath left her as she started to fall. The professor's arms as they came around her were the only thing that stopped her body from smacking into the cold unyielding stone of the dungeon floor.

A moment but silence passed and then once again tendrils of light spread across the wall as it flared, Hermione's muggle family tree spread across its surface.

"Sir, what does that mean?" Mordred asked stepping forward and placing a wary hand on Hermione's cheek.

"I don't know," the Professor said uncertainly, "A family tree usually only appears when someone has been accepted, otherwise, the wall simply does not react, I've never seen it do this before. It would seem that even though Miss Granger is a muggleborn, Slytherin has accepted her."

Outraged shouts started amongst the Slytherin's as the professor rose to his feet with Hermione's thin frame cradled in his arms; cautiously, he walked towards the wall and in a moment had passed without any other problems. A minute passed and the professor appeared once again, "Miss Granger is from what I understand perfectly fine and has no ill effects from her ordeal."

Mordred sighed in relief as students once again started to make their way up to the wall. When it was Mordred's turn he felt the eyes of every student still left outside the common room look at him with deep-seated and slightly confusing curiosity.

"It's your name," the Professor said as if reading Mordred's thoughts, "The name Pendragon was the second name of King Arthur, the name has not been used since his son _Mordred_ Pendragon had no children before he died. They find it odd that a muggleborn would have such a name."

"I'm not… at least I don't know… I don't know whether I'm a muggleborn, I'm an orphan," Mordred told them and with a prick of his finger smeared his blood on the wall.

Just seconds ticked by and nothing happened, the wall remained blank, "Well it would seem –" the Professor started but cut himself off immediately as the wall in front of them started to hiss and then to Mordred's astonishment whispered his name as it appeared in the beautiful Celtic script –

_Welcome_

_Mordred_

_Emrys_

_Pendragon_

"What is that? What does it say? Can you read it? No I can't, can you? What language is it?" These were some of the questions that flowed around Mordred as they looked at the clearly legible script in confusion.

"That," the Professor said in a clear voice that demanded attention, "is the written form of Parseltongue."

Excited whispers burst from everyone present and Mordred did the only thing he could to escape the curious questioning stares, he walked forward through the wall and into his new common room.

Coming out the other side Mordred found himself stood upon a staircase that led down to the Slytherin common room which lay in a semicircle at least three metres below him. The ceiling of the common room was made completely of glass and gave a stunning underwater view of the lake, which allowed light to shine through it only in deep green mesmerising patterns that danced on the walls. Huge deep green leather couches covered with soft white fur throws were placed in seven huge alcoves around the semicircle, each alcove with its own massive roaring silver fire. In the semicircle part of the room itself there were huge mahogany tables surrounded by small chairs covered in the same leather as the couches.

It seemed that each alcove was designated to a different year group and Mordred quickly found his year in the first alcove to his left. Moving quickly he found Hermione sitting curled up on one of the couches nursing a steaming drink and wrapped up in one of the fur covers adorning the couches.

"Hermione are you okay?" He asked her anxiously as he sat down beside her and felt her forehead. She was incredibly cold, her eyes seemed to be drifting shut every now and then, she didn't really seem aware of her surroundings.

Ten minutes later and the rest of the first-year Slytherin's had made it through into the common room where they came and sat in the alcove with the rest of their year mates.

At last Professor Snape came through into the common room, his regal looking black robes settling down around him as he looked out over the sea of students, "I will not say much as most of you already know what I have to say. You are Slytherin's, and as such you will be judged harshly and unfairly by others, the other houses look at us as cunning and untrustworthy," at this he smirked, "they are right. When you walk outside of this common room you put on a mask; this mask is one of unity, when you go outside of this common room you treat every one of your fellow Slytherin as equal.

Younger ones, you will respect the older students no matter what house they come from and you are to be especially wary of prefects. If any of you see a Slytherin student being bullied by a member of another house you will aid that student, no matter whether they come from a pureblood house or not," his eyes flickered over to where Mordred and Hermione were sat, "this school will see it as a unified group when they look at us. We cannot afford as the outcasts of this school to be caught unawares.

Prefects the new rotor is up on the noticeboard, you will take turns showing the first years where their classes are until the end of the week; if they are late to any of their lessons within the week I will hold the prefect on duty personally responsible. So long as it does not impede your own learning every one of the older students will help the younger ones with their studies; the first years will be assigned to the different study groups within the week after they have been sorted into their classes." At his next words a wicked grin spread over Professor Snape's face, "I will be collecting the summer homework tomorrow morning, please deposited it in the boxes on the table in your year area." Unlike what Mordred was expecting, the was not the usual groans of annoyance from the surrounding Slytherin's, the way they would have been in a normal school, simply quiet murmurings of acquiescence.

First years," Snape continued turning to look at the group and nodded as if pleased before indicating a set of stairs at the back of the alcove they were sat in, "Girls dormitories are up the stairs and the boys are down, there is a list on each door of who is in your dorm. When you go into your dorms tonight you will each find a silver serpent ring on your beds, wear the ring at all times and if at any moment you need me twists the ring ninety degrees around your finger and I will instantly be alerted. Every one of you has proven yourself to be worthy enough to join the ranks of Slytherin tonight. This common room is different from the other three houses, the entrance has no fixed place within the castle, to get to the common room entrance simply rub the ring on your finger and follow where it leads you, you will find the common room entrance. There is one thing however, the spell on the ring is a Slytherin secret, the founder himself created it and you cannot use these rings in the presence of others from different house."

With a slight incline of his head Snape twisted a silver ring on his finger that Mordred had not seen before and disappeared, "Good Night and sleep well my snakes for tomorrow I expect you to shine!" All the first-year pupils looked up startled to see Snape looking down at them from a balcony directly above the entrance to the common room. With one last lingering look at his new first years Snape swung around and disappeared into the darkness of the balcony.

There was a moment's pause before a loud ringing voice called out through the common, "Bring them!" Seconds later to huge seventh year Slytherin's appeared in the first-year alcove and stared down at Mordred and Hermione.

"Menem wants to see you," said the slightly taller of the two.

Mordred looked over at Hermione who was draining the remnants of the steaming green liquid she had been drinking. She glanced up at the two seventh years and then back at Mordred; with a nod she placed the glass down beside her and Mordred helped her slightly unsteadily to her feet.

Following the two seventh years and feeling the rest of the common rooms curious eyes follow them as they went Hermione and Mordred made their way over to the alcove directly opposite the entrance, the seventh years alcove Mordred realized.

Like the rest of the alcoves there were huge couches draped in fur and there was a large green fire flicking light onto the face of the alcoves occupants. There were however two differences between this alcove and the other six, the first was that this alcove was silent as eternal slumber the second difference was that in the centre of all the comfortable couches, in prime place next to the fire was a large black leather winged back chair. Sat in the chair was a tall skinny young man with curly brown hair, a pale face and mismatched glaring eyes, it was the seventh year who had stood interrupted Dumbledore earlier at the feast.

"So, the Sorting Hat has finally lost it," he said in a low voice as his green and brown eyes flickered between Hermione and Mordred, "There are three other houses in this school, only we have remained untainted by any mudblood entering our ranks… until now. I do not know what to do with you, like any other mudblood neither of you deserve my attention and yet I must pass judgement on your fates.

"Our fates?" Mordred asked carefully.

A malicious smile spread across Menem's face, "Why yes little mudblood, my word is the only thing keeping you from a life of misery within this house. There is however a slight chance that all of this is unnecessary," his eyes darted in and fixed on Hermione's, "You are the easiest, there is only one point of interest with you and that was your admission into the common room. Tell me girl, why did your family tree simply not appear and not admit you into the common room if you are a simple mudblood? Why did it show your _muggle_ family tree?"

Hermione's eyes widened and her mouth opened as if she were about to answer but no sound came out and she snapped it shut again.

"I thought so," Menem said and his fingers started to drum impatiently on the arm of the chair as he looked over Hermione's features, "Do you know that you carry a striking resemblance to the members of the Black family? The curly hair and the slim fatal features, they are entirely Black, but your eyes, now they are perplexing, I do not know where they come from, however, the Black family will be where you start."

Hermione frowned, "I – I'm sorry… Sir, but I really don't understand what you're asking of me."

Menem sneered, "It's the mudblood in you child, it makes you stupid. I'm telling you to go and research the Black family. My reasoning, based on the way you look leads me to suspect that your some sort of love child belonging to their family, do not interrupt me Miss _Granger_," he warned her , sneering at her name as she opened her mouth to object to his orders, "I do not like being interrupted by insolent children. I am giving you an out here, if you can find a family connection with the Blacks you will be accepted here far more readily than you are now, if only slightly because it would only be _one_ of your parents."

As if dismissing Hermione out of mind Menem turned towards Mordred and his sneer turned curious, "Now you are something entirely different aren't you Pendragon," as Mordred's last name the whispers in the common rose in volume, "Do you know anything about Arthur Pendragon?"

Mordred frowned and his eyes narrowed as he assessed Menem in front of him, he had a feeling that the Wizarding version of the Arthurian legends was entirely different from the muggle one. If he said he knew the muggle version that would be worse than saying he did not know them at all.

"Arthur was a legendary King that reigned Britain a little after the birth of Christ, possibly one of the most famous kings of all, but I know little more than that."

Menem's mouth turned into a wicked smirk as he leaned forward and said in a low clear voice, "Are you referring to the _muggle_ version Mordred?"

Mordred frowned, "Yes, but you cannot blame me for my ignorance, I only joined the Wizarding World a few weeks ago you. I guessed that the muggles had gotten at least partly true because of how frequently he is mentioned, I cannot read a book without finding his name somewhere in amongst it, along with Merlin and Morgana, though I must admit I previously thought Arthur was a muggle." Enraged shouts started amongst the gathered crowd but a menacing sickly greens spark from Menem's wand had them all quieting down.

Menem sighed with a put upon frown, "There is a book in the library, it is a rather big tomb and a brief overview of Wizarding history of that time, it's called _The Great Three_ as well sa _Pureblood Etiquette for the Mentally Challenged_." Snickers erupted from around the common room as Menem continued, "By the end of the month I want both of you to have read them, remembered them, embraced them as the only truth, you may be mudbloods but we will not accept failure from you simply on that score. You are Slytherin's if only in name and therefore if you do not have the knowledge to be a Slytherin in the time I have allotted you, we will make you learn it by any means necessary."

Getting up Menem looked around the common room and raised his voice so that everyone could hear him clearly, "This is an unprecedented failure on the part of the Sorting Hat and the charms placed around the common room to protect us from those that should not be Slytherin's. I will be talking to the elders tonight and finding out their opinion on the matter. Until I have a chance to speak with them no one is to talk to the mudbloods inside of this common room unless they too want to become outcasts within their own house. Outside of the common room you will speak to them only when necessary. Make sure they hand in their own work on time and it is to the high standards that we Slytherin's are able to set, it is true they are not worthy of us but that is no reason for them to disgrace us further. At this time we have no other choice but to try and ignore their presence until a better solution can be found."

So saying, Menem turned and stalked was the seventh year dormitory stairs leaving both Mordred and Hermione gobsmacked; their house was going to ignore them? They were going to pretend they didn't exist; it was just like being back at the Foster home except this time it was worse because Mordred had thought that maybe, maybe this time might have been different, he had thought now that he was around people like him maybe he might have... Mordred's face hardened and lost all expression as he turned and walked back towards the first-year alcove, Hermione following slowly behind him, obviously he had been wrong.

"I don't think I can handle any more this tonight Hermione," Mordred whispered in a dead tone as he headed towards the dormitory stairs, "I'm going to bed, I'll see you in the morning."

Hermione nodded, not a single fleck of emotion showing on her face, "I know how it feels Mordred, you don't have to hide from me," she whispered back, "We'll get through this, it's you _and me_ now, we're not on our own any more, remember that." With a small squeeze of his hand Hermione turned and walked up spiral staircase to where the girl's dormitories were located.

With a sigh and a small smile playing over his features Mordred made his way down to the boys section of the dormitories and looked around. He found himself in a long curving corridor with doors on only a single side. The doors were in clusters of three and each had a list of names on. On the first list was written –

_Runespoor_

_Draco Malfoy_

_Blaize Zambini_

_Vincent Crabbe_

_Gregory Goyle_

_Theodore Nott_

_Mordred Pendragon_

Looking at the other two doors Mordred recognised the names of the other first-year boys that had been sorted into Slytherin; with a sigh Mordred pushed the door open to look at the room he would be living in for the next year. The room was square but for the floor-to-ceiling length bay window on the opposite side of the room that looked out into the deep darkness of the Black Lake. Six fourposter beds covered in green velvet sheets lined each side of the room and in the bay window a large black iron fire grate stood with two large black couches on either side. Placed at the bottom of five of the beds sat beautifully gleaming steamer trunks, at the bottom of Mordred's bed tucked into the right-hand corner of the room was his ratty old suitcase about a quarter of the size of the rest.

With a shake of his head Mordred went over to his suitcase and looked around. There was a largish bedside cabinet beside his bed but he could see nowhere where he could place his clothes.

_"Merlin they can't be serious putting him with us!"_ Came an explanation from outside and seconds later four boys came barrelling into the room each with varying degrees of disgust on their faces.

"What are you doing here mudblood?" Snarled an Italian sounding boy Mordred recognised as Blaise Zambini, "No one wants you here, you're not supposed to be in Slytherin, you or your stupid friend."

"Oh did you think it was _my_ choice to be here?" Mordred asked in a mockingly confused tone, "Because I could've sworn it was the Sorting Hat that told me where I was going to go, not the other way around."

"Enough!" came the exasperated command of the regal blonde now striding into the room. The Malfoy boy was definitely a sight to behold Mordred thought himself, now that he was in his element. White platinum blonde hair lay perfectly straight on his head, pale eyelashes the colour of fresh snow lowered over fierce grey eyes as he surveyed Mordred from head to toe. Though Malfoy was tall he was by no means the tallest in the room, both Crabbe and Goyle towered over him and yet draped in the same expensive silk black robes as the rest of them he still he seemed to stand out and draw attention like a moth to flame.

You heard Menem's orders," he said in a quiet authoritative voice that commanded silence around the room, "They are both to be ignored until he has spoken to the elders about their presence, that means no interaction in any way shape or form while in the house."

Without saying or doing anything in response to Malfoy's statement Mordred turned and drew the hangings around two of the three sides of his bed cutting of the rest of the dorm from view. Taking off his clothing and slipping into a pair of old holy pyjamas Mordred crawled underneath the quilt and fell almost instantly to sleep.

Review? ;)


	3. Starting School Chapter 3

This Chapter Word Count- 9,035

Serpent Skin Chapter 3

Starting School

As usual, the next morning Mordred woke up at six, a time far earlier than anyone else normally got up. He was therefore rather surprised to find the bed next to him with the drapes neatly drawn back and the bed made, looking as if no one had even slept in it. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes Mordred stretched and looked around the room; every other bed still had the hangings drawn around them but as he had fallen asleep so early last night he had no idea who was already up.

Getting out of bed he noticed a door that he had not seen last night over in the opposite corner of the room. Curious he went over and opened it only to find a spiral staircase with the sound of running water like a shower echoing up it. Guessing it to be the bathroom Mordred grabbed his school uniform, a towel and his bag of toiletries and went down to find himself in a stone room the same size as the dormitory above. Where the beds were in the room above stone walls divided either side of the room into three shower cubicles with frosted glass paneling covering them. The same could be said about the wall where the dormitory door was located. It was divided into four toilet cubicles and where the fire was located in the room above six big stone sinks stood suspended on iron framework looking out into the black lake.

Taking note that the other person in the bathroom had taken the shower relative to his bed in the dormitory Mordred did the same walking over to the shower in the same position as his bed. Five minutes later and Mordred was still stood outside the shower cubicle trying desperately to think of a way to getting. The glass panel wouldn't budge and there was no handle of any sort that he could see. At that moment the sound of the other shower turned off and _through_ the glass panel stepped Malfoy dressed only in a towel that stopped just above his knee.

Spotting Mordred, he started and asked with a raised eyebrow, "What are you doing up at this time in the morning Pendragon? And why are you standing outside of the shower instead of going in?"

For a moment Mordred debated whether or not answer, but realising that he didn't really have a choice, explaining to Malfoy that he didn't know how to get into the shower.

Malfoy burst out laughing, but when he realised that Mordred was serious he looked at him in astonishment, "You don't know how to work a shower?" He asked in disbelief.

"I can work a shower just fine Malfoy, or at least I can work a muggle one. However I have no idea how to open a shower that has no handle he said gesturing at the frosted glass panel.

"You're serious aren't you?" Malfoy asked him in disbelief after a second in silence. Mordred nodded, did Malfoy really think that if he knew how to work it he would be standing out here talking to him? With a put upon sigh Malfoy stepped forward and grabbed Mordred's wrist placing his palm flat on the frosted glass.

"Think of the password and say it three times in your head," Malfoy stated and when Mordred did as he was told to his astonishment the glass glowed slightly and suddenly his hand was falling through it. Mordred gave Malfoy a look of astonishment but Malfoy seem to have no patience for it as he took hold of Mordred's wrist once again dragging him into the cubicle.

"You hang your stuff up on there," Malfoy explained quickly pointed to the pegs on one side of the cubicle where there were a set of hooks, "And that's a mirror, I assume you know what to do with that," he said sarcastically pointing to the opposite side at the big oval mirror that hung on the wall. "To activate the shower," he went on pushing open a wooden partition into the actual shower cubicle, "stand here and repeat your password in your mind once again and the water will start you do the same to turn it off, anything else?"

"How do I adjust the temperature?" Mordred asked stepping into the shower cubicle with Malfoy.

"It automatically adjusts to whatever temperature you want," Malfoy said with a dismissive wave of his hand stepping out of the cubicle and back out into the bathroom.

Thankfully from thereon in it was perfectly all right, Mordred was able to work the shower and after washing packed all his stuff up before stepping back out into the bathroom itself.

"What are you doing?" asked Malfoy who was fully dressed now in a high collared white dress shirt and pants underneath his unbuttoned long black satin school robes. He was standing by the sink eyeing Mordred's toiletry bag through a mirror that was floating in front of him with an interest Mordred could not understand.

"What do you mean?" Mordred asked

"I mean why don't you just leave all of your stuff in the shower cubicle moron?" Malfoy asked. "The password you just made means that only you can get in that shower cubicle, it's yours for the year."

"Oh," Mordred said, feeling slightly foolish at not figuring it out himself. Putting all this stuff back into the cubicle he walked up to the sink next Malfoy's and started to put toothpaste on his brush.

"Is that one of those muggle… things?" Malfoy asked with barely veiled disgust dripping from his voice as he pointed out the toothbrush and toothpaste in Mordred hand.

"No, it's the latest in Wizarding teeth cleaning technology," Mordred deadpanned, "Of course it's muggle."

Malfoy's lips thinned, he looked as if was about to give Mordred a piece of his mind but then seemed to decide answering was not worth his time, instead he reached his hand up and put it through the mirror hovering in front of him. A second later he pulled out a green corked glass bottle. Grabbing Mordreds hand he shock the bottle until a white tablet about the size of a thumbnail fell into Mordreds palm.

"Put it in your mouth with a bit of water and let it dissolve," he commanded.

Mordred simply looked at the other boy with a raised eyebrow, did Malfoy really think he was going to put anything into his mouth he didn't know what it was. Malfoy sighed and with one quick movement the pill out of Mordred's hand and shoved it into his mouth.

Malfoy watched in triumph as the tablets slowly dissolved on Mordred's tongue and he reacted. The tablet was like nothing he had ever tried before, is felt as if his mouth had been completely swept of any kind of grime, the way it had the one time he went to the dentist and had his teeth professionally cleaned.

"Wow," Mordred said sweeping his tongue across his teeth once again, "Do all wizards use them?"

"Of course," Draco said offhandedly, "Here," he said holding out the bottle to the boy opposite him, "I have another two bottles upstairs and that one is new, there are a thousand tablets in it so it should last you a while if you're like all other normal wizards and use it only twice a day. The effect should last all day." For some reason, it didn't matter to Draco that he was lying through his pearly white teeth to the boy in front of him. The bottle of _Yuck Be Gone_ teeth cleaning tablets was anything but cheap and only purebloods who could afford them had them. The rest of their Wizarding population had to make do with the incredibly inferior product _Teethrinse_; a potion rinsed around the mouth and spat out twice-daily. Needless to say almost everyone in Slytherin used the tablets and certainly everyone in their dorm did. Draco for the life of him knew nothing about muggles but he could still see quality when he saw it and judging by the state of Pendragon's muggle suitcase, tattered and worn as it was, he would not have been one of the select few that had the money to buy _Yuck Be Gone_ instead of the _Teethrinse_ potion.

"Thank you," Pendragon said bemusedly as he took the bottle and looked at the ingredients listed on the ornate silver label.

It suddenly struck Draco how much attention he was paying to a boy he was not supposed to even acknowledge the existence of. With an annoyed shake of his head Draco left the bathroom without another word to the Pendragon boy, flopping down on his bed and taking out a potions book from his bedside cabinet to read. Minutes later Pendragon came up the stairs and gave a small nod of acknowledgement to Draco as he passed but then seemed to do a doubletake as he looked at the bottom of Draco's bed.

"Where's your trunk?" Pendragon asked looking around Draco's bed as if he had hidden the thing somewhere.

Draco huffed, annoyed with himself for feeling of the need to answer the boy, "I put it in my wardrobe, the same with everyone else, you just fell asleep too early to do it; just unpack now." He said offhandedly.

"But where is your wardrobe?" Pendragon asked in confusion and Draco, feeling his self-annoyance rising, absentmindedly tapped his finger to his bedside cabinet, causing it to grow exponentially into a wardrobe that filled the floor-to-ceiling wall space between his and Pendragon's bed.

"It's like the shower," he explained not taking his eyes off the book he was reading, "Tap a finger to it think the password and it'll grow into a wardrobe, tap it again, think the password and it shrinks back into a bedside cabinet."

Over the next half hour or so Draco carefully watched out of the corner of his eye as Pendragon unpacked his clothes and then once he had finished watched as he lay stomach down on his bed, legs kicking in the air as he read a book.

As seven o'clock drew near, the time when the other occupants of the room were due to wake Draco huffed and put his book away knowing the conversation he was about to enter into would not be a pleasant one; before he could speak a single syllable however the words were taken right out of his mouth.

"Don't worry," Pendragon said looking up from his book at Draco with knowing eyes, "I know the trouble you'd get into if you spoke with me civilly in the company of others, I don't mind." Without another word Pendragon turned back to his book and Draco was left with an oddly empty feeling in his chest.

"Would you like," Draco hesitated, but when Pendragon looked up at him with curious eyes he decided to push forward, "Would you like to go to the common, it's probably going to be empty."

Just like that, the curiosity died on Pendragon's face but the blank look that replaced it was worse; he did nod to Draco however and after packing the supplies they knew they would need for the school day both went up to the common room and settled in opposite chairs. After another twenty minutes or so Draco could see students started to trickle down into the common room; one of the bulky seventh years that had taken Pendragon and the Granger girl over to Menem last night came over to them and asked, "Draco Malfoy?" In a way that made obvious he was ignoring Pendragon's presence altogether.

"Yes," Draco drawled lifting an eyebrow in curiosity, "Can I help you with something?"

The seventh year nodded, "Tell your year group that once they've finished breakfast this morning to stay at the table. Someone will be along to take you to your lessons." Draco nodded and the seventh year left, they were alone once again.

"What was that about?" Pendragon asked looking at Draco curiously after he was sure the boy was well out of earshot, "He asked for your name specifically, how would he even know you?"

"It's because of my position in the year group. I am the top therefore I am the one responsible for the rest of my year, or at least I am for today, who knows what will happen later."

Pendragon lifted an eyebrow curiously, "And how exactly was it determined that you would be leader of our year group?"

"Because of my station in life; my family is one of the longest pureblood lines," Draco explained, a hint of pride entering his voice, "we can trace our family right back to when _The Great Three_ lived, that's a roundabout two thousand years. Then of course there is my wealth, the Malfoy family is one of the richest in all of Europe and we have great sway with the European ministries as well as our own. Last night when you and your friend went to the dorms early everyone else was playing political cat and mouse, earning themselves places in the pecking order."

"And why might that pecking order change after today?" Pendragon asked with a frown

Draco lifted an eyebrow at him and smirked, "Because there are other factors that will come into play today, when we go to our classes our new year mates all get their first glimpse of how truly powerful and intelligent we are as witches and wizards. If I was to turn out to be magically weak or unintelligent wizard then there is the potential for me to be taken from my top spot."

The way Malfoy was looking into his eyes, Mordred truly understood in that moment what Malfoy was saying, he could never publicly acknowledge Mordred else his position at the top of the house be in jeopardy. Mordred sighed and looked back down at the book he had been reading ignoring any other meagre attempt the Malfoy boy made at conversation.

He did however watch Malfoy out the corner of his eye as the blonde read his own book, it was some sort of advanced text and it was as he was trying to read the title that he noticed the bracelet adorning Malfoy's right wrist. It looked to be made of the same type of material as Mordred's blade, about an inch thick, carved into revealing golden designs that again looked similar to the Arabic like designs on his blade, with a large Amethyst stone set in it. There looked to be no visible clasp to remove the piece of jewellery and it was so tight against Malfoy's skin that it almost looked to be part of his wrist.

Mordred didn't understand why he was so transfixed by the bracelet, but his curiosity piqued when within the stone itself he spotted more of this strange patterns appearing in gold spiralling around the stone until it disappeared in the centre.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Malfoy asked, breaking Mordred out of his musing.

He looked up and met Malfoy's cool grey eyes, "You bracelet, what of those strange markings and why do they appear inside the stone?"

Malfoy's eyebrows rose so far and so fast Mordred worried they would just fly off his face, but a second later he seemed to collect himself and he shook his head, "It means very little really, the bracelet is a Malfoy family heirloom, a protection bracelet."

Mordred glanced back down at the bracelet and was surprised to see that though the markings on the band were still there, the stone looked as ordinary as any other, "The markings are gone from the stone," his eyes locked with Malfoy's again the blonde seemed to panic slightly.

"The markings only appear now and then, they don't appear all the time." He said hurriedly and moved to cover the bracelet with his shirt sleeve.

"Why do you keep saying markings?" Mordred asked, and the blonde rose an eyebrow in question, "You almost said writing earlier before you corrected yourself, it's writing, what language is it?"

Malfoy pointedly ignored Mordred's questions and went back to reading, but as soon as he did Mordred could see the faint glow of the bracelet from and under his shirt.

When Hermione came down from the girls dormitory and greeted Mordred with a good morning, silence had completely fallen between the two boys as if they had never spoken. The two acknowledged friends made their way up to the Great Hall and sat down to have breakfast. As it was, after having a single slice of toast with butter Mordred's stomach turned and he realised that he was not used to so much rich food. Carefully placing the forkful of scrambled eggs he was about to put into his mouth back down on his plate Mordred sighed and took a small sip of water. Having had so much food with Hermione earlier his stomach had protested the same the night before at the welcoming feast, he'd only been able to eat vegetables and a small bit of meat before he had had to stop. Looking down at himself and then glancing up to look around the Great Hall at the other few first years already there he realised he was by far the smallest, even the girls were taller than him and he silently swore to himself to look up nutrient potions in the library whenever he got the chance.

It wasn't long after that before the rest of the Slytherin's, including Malfoy followed closely by the rest of the first years made their way to the table and like the night before the Slytherin's simply ignored Hermione and Mordred.

When the post reached them, Mordred wasn't surprised to see Hermione reach out and take a _Daily Prophet_ from an owl that had settled in front of her. He was however rather surprised when she gasped out loud at the headline and after reading it turned it round presenting it to Mordred with wide eyes.

The title read

_DEAD SAVIOUR?_

_A story by Rita Skeeter_

_My faithful readers, today I have terrible news to announce to you all, our saviour, The-Boy-Who-Lived… Is Missing!_

_We all know the story of The-Boy-Who-Lived, at only a year and a half old Harry Potter, son of Lily and James Potter defeated He-Who Must Not Be Named, the greatest Dark Wizard since the German Dark Lord Grindelwald. With no parents, and no other Wizarding family our saviour went to live with his muggle relatives, and asked the behest of wind Albus Dumbledore, the details of where exactly these relatives lived or who they were was not made public knowledge. It was speculated that they were related to Lily Potter, but it was never confirmed._

_Now my readers, if I have done my calculations right, then our dear boy saviour would have been starting Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this very September and would even now be happily settled at one of the four great house tables. What surprised me then was the fact that not only was Harry Potter not at the legendary Hogwarts sorting but he was not at the school at all. _

_Ladies and gentlemen when I found out this startling fact, that our saviour was, to all intents and purposes missing, I had to dig deeper. I went to my Hogwarts source, someone very close to the school and they confirmed to me that there is no record at Hogwarts of a Harry Potter ever being registered to attend. _

_Now we all know that every magical child eligible to attend this great academy is registered in the Hogwarts ledger, an incredibly powerful magical object that picks up when a childs personal magical signature reveals itself. This phenomenal occurrence in a child's life usually happens around about the ages of four to seven and even if the child were to become eligible afterwards, say for example by moving to Britain, then again the Hogwarts ledger will pick up their magical signature and register them as eligible. This means dearest people, that Harry Potter, the saviour of our modern magical world has been out of reach of that magical object for at least seven years._

_My dear readers I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but after making this discovery I went straight to the primary source of all things old and magical, scholar and architect Vladimir Savchenko. I asked him whether or not he had ever seen Hogwarts ledger and under what circumstances would a perfectly eligible child such as Harry Potter not be registered in the ledger._

_His answer to me was this…_

_"Miss Skeeter I have seen the Hogwarts ledger many times and have had the privilege to study it extensively. It is very simple in its magical make up, but it is that simplicity that allows it to be so powerful, there are very few things that can block a child's magical signature from reaching it. _

_The first thing that can block the signature are blood wards that have to be keyed and created by someone from the same bloodline as the child with the express permission if the child themselves. Now at the time Harry Potter would not have been old enough to understand what was going on and therefor could not have given permission. The wards would have to be designed specifically to block Mr Potter's signature and the complexities in creating such a Ward would take an incredibly intelligent and incredibly magically powerful being. As Harry Potter has no living magical relatives, especially with that kind of power, then this I am afraid is very unlikely to be the option you're looking for. You also have to understand that in the unlikely possibility that Harry Potter is out there somewhere with some unknown relative that he would not have been able to leave the property all his life; if he were to even put a finger outside the wards for a second the ledger would have his name._

_The second thing which can cause a child's magical signature not be registered in the ledger is if the child were to move out of the country, however in the case of a child born with pureblood in Britain, even if, like Harry Potter it is only from one of the parents, then the child would still be registered because of his family's origins in Britain, it takes at least three generations of a family living away from Britain for the ledger to stop registering the family's decedents as Hogwarts eligible. ._

_The third and final way I have discovered in which a child does not register in the Hogwarts ledger is if they have died before their magical signature is able to mature. Therefore, Miss Skeeter assuming that the first option is not possible and the second does not apply to our Boy-Who-Lived then the only conclusion that I can give you is that Harry Potter is dead."_

_Readers, we will mourn this day, that the day we found out that our saviour, so close to our hearts is no longer with us. What happened to him readers, for as far as we know, Professor Dumbledore himself left Harry Potter with his relatives, we were told he was safe and I implore you readers to write to Professor Dumbledore, ask him, demand he tell you, because we at least deserve that._

"Well that was a bit overdramatic," Mordred said in a bored tone.

"I will admit that she is rather dramatic, but she brings up a good point, if this scholar – architect person is to be believed, then the only way Harry Potter could still be alive is if he had some unknown incredibly intelligent and powerful relative out there somewhere. Not to mention that the only way the wards would be effective is if Harry Potter stayed within their boundaries all throughout the last eleven years of his life, which is not very likely. Like the man said, one magically mature toe outside that ward and the ledger would pick up his signature."

It wasn't until Professor Snape had given out their timetables at the end of breakfast and the rest of the upper years had disappeared to their classes that they were acknowledged by anyone.

"Granger, Pendragon, get your asses over her, I do not have time to waste on your pathetic mudblood existence," came the low shrill hiss of one of the older girl prefects as she and three others gathered the rest of the first-year Slytherin's. "Right," she started again once everyone was surrounding her and the others, "I'm Dalia Peregrine and I'm going to be taking group one to their first class; if there is a big number one on your timetable you are group one and you are to follow me. You will be shown to each of your classes by one of the prefects for the rest of the week, once the week is over it is up to you to find your way around. Got it?"

Saying nothing else the girl walked away and after checking their timetables both Mordred and Hermione sighed in relief on realising they were both in one. Pulling away from the rest of the first years Mordred and Hermione made their way up there grand staircase towards their first class of the year; on closer inspection the two realised with their classmates were to be; Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zambini, Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Amelia Anderson and their dorm mates. It was then as they were quietly following behind the girl that someone shouted out to her, "Oy, Peregrine what's it like, being in the presence of such duty blood?"

The girl that had been leading them stopped abruptly and turned to face the speaker, a rather ugly looking girl that looked around about her own age with a Ravenclaw badge shining on her chest, two other girls were stood smirking at her side.

"I don't know Murray, why don't you tell me, you're probably a more pathetic example of pureblood than they are, you're a disgrace, you have no style, no beauty, how you got into Ravenclaw is beyond me because you have no intelligence and your family has no money. The sorting hat put them in Slytherin, they are Slytherin's and we do not take kindly to having our own insulted by less than reputable personages, do we boys?" She asked

From nowhere the two boys that had manhandled Mordred and Hermione over to Menem the night before suddenly appeared out of nowhere flanking Peregrine and looking incredibly menacing with all the bulk the two had between them. Mordred was rather amused at seeing Malfoy's eyes flashing speculatively between the two seventh year boys and Crabbe and Goyle who looked to be the same build as the older two, an almost maniacal plotting glint in his eye.

The three Ravenclaw girls seemed to freeze at the site of the two boys and with one final sneer from their leader quickly departed.

Before either Hermione or Mordred could thank the girl sticking up for them she turned round and glared, "The two of you are more trouble than you're worth. It's a good thing I asked Gandhi and Basilio to accompany me today or that would have been a bloodbath, you two don't belong here, everybody knows it and yet we can't do a dammed thing about it." She growled in frustration, turning round and leading the rest of the way to their class.

From then on Hermione and Mordred learned to walk at least two meters behind the rest of the first years as they were led from class to class. The less people who associated them with the _Slytherin's _meantless hassle for the rest of their house and that in turn meant their house gave _them_ less hassle. So far they had not performed any magic, the teachers had simply started explaining about the subject and what would be required of them that year.

"Don't you find it strange that they are not even testing us?" Hermione asked Mordred with a slight frown, "I mean, surely they're going to split us into classes based on our skill and knowledge level."

"I don't know Hermione," Mordred admitted, taking a moment to think it through, "I would have supposed so but the teachers have made no mention of it. It seems strange especially seeing as we get split into two groups anyway."

The classes turned out to be as interesting as both Mordred and Hermione were expecting, Mordred couldn't decide which class was his favourite, Charms, Transfiguration, Astronomy and Herbology were all fascinating, but each could not have been more different than the next.

Charms had been their very first lesson and was taught by Professor Flitwick. They had waited outside the classroom until the Professor had invited him inside at which time the mixed class of Ravenclaw's and Slytherin's divided taking up positions on either side of the room. The pecking order was quickly established within the class on either side. The Ravenclaw's known for coveting intelligence was ranked on that scale, the more intelligence a child possessed, the further forward in the class they sat, with the smartest at the front and the dullest at the back though even the least intelligent of the Ravenclaw's were rather smart. The Slytherin's had a different system, ranked by standing in society and with a fierce need to protect their own Malfoy as the leader of the first-year Slytherin was seated right in the middle of the middle row with rings of importance spiralling out from him. Predictably Mordred and Hermione were herded to the back corner of the class as far out of sight as possible.

Flitwick had started off by taking a rollcall but much to Mordred's absolute horror had stopped it is name and greeted him incredibly warmly into his class, telling the rest of the pupils present that he had had the pleasure to welcome Mordred into the Wizarding world and found him in incredibly smart young man. Most of the Ravenclaw is in every single one of the Slytherin's apart from Malfoy had turned and sneered at Mordred for Flitwick's comment, causing him to shrink further inches chair and wish the ground with the swallow him up.

After completing the rollcall Professor Flitwick spent the first hour and a half explaining about charms and what they could do; how charms was the subject where they would learn how to change the properties of an object, such as its function as opposed to the actual form of the object. Though he already knew most of what the professor was saying from his background reading in Mordred's opinion incredibly interesting. Bowever he could see every single one of the Slytherin's were bored out of their mind as well as most of the Ravenclaw's (though unlike the Slytherin's they did take notes). The only ones that seemed even remotely interested were there five known muggleborn's in their class, he, Hermione and three of the Ravenclaw's.

Professor Flitwick then proceeded to try and teach them the _Verus _spell, used to propel objects in the direction you wish, for example if you wanted to make a object move to the right you would see _Verus Right,_ if they wanted to go forward they would say, _Verus Forward_ and so on and so forth_._ Mordred was hardly surprised to realise that every student but the muggleborn's already knew how to do the spell and he already knew the spell aswall due to his out of school practice. He was starting to see a pattern in most of his classes, herbology had been exactly the same.

Herbology was a complimentary class that needed to be taken in order to understand Potions. It was taught by a stout chubby woman by the name of Professor Sprout (of course the herbology Professor had to have a name to do with plants) and it was all about emotions. In their first class Professor Sprout taught them that if any the emotions portrayed by the children while tending the plants were negative then the plants would have a negative response to them; she had explained that that was an essential point of herbology; it was said in the muggle world that plants needed love and attention to grow right, in the Wizarding world if the grower didn't give a plant love and attention they'd most likely attack you. Professor Sprout had introduced the mixed class of Slytherin and Hufflepuff's to a type of creeping vine called Python, a plan that Mordred's opinion looked suspiciously like Ivy. At the sight of the vine all of the Slytherin's had adopted huge uncharacteristic grins and immediately started chatting in happily to their neighbours with some of the Hufflepuff's doing the same. Hermione and Mordred had exchanged astonished looks at their housemates odd show of emotion, laughing and joking about it as they worked it wasn't until a little while later that to Hufflepuff's' in the front row had started arguing. To the astonishment of every muggleborn present the plant had shot out from its pot and wrapped itself around the two students bodies like a Python, squeezing them until the two fainted.

With Potions being there next class Hermione and Mordred trotted down behind the rest of the first-year Slytherin's towards the dungeons and found themselves neatly lined up calmly and quietly in front of an imposing black wooden door. Hearing the loud sound of children's voices coming down the corridor moments later the Gryffindor half of their potions class arrived. Unlike the Slytherin they did not line up calmly and quietly, instead they stood around in a large circle shouting and laughing at each other and generally being a nuisance, there could not have been two more different houses. When the potions door swung open however and Professor Snape stepped out glaring at them all in a set of long black flowing robes almost identical to the ones he had been wearing at the welcoming feast everyone in the corridor fell silent.

Swinging round, his flowing robes flaring out dramatically as he turned Snape strode back into the classroom calling "Enter," over a shoulder. The Slytherin's filed in silently and took over the right side of the classroom with minimal fuss, their seating arrangements already being known previously from their other classes. Looking around the room Mordred couldn't help but suppress a shiver. Lining the walls were shelf bookshelf of bottles and jars and boxes of things like pickled animals, parts of pickled animals, plants, unknown liquids and strange looking gases.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Mordred name. It was however only a slight glance in Mordred's direction, so minute that only a few of the Slytherin's such as Malfoy, Zambini, Parkinson and Hermione noticed.

Finishing marking down everyone as present Snape vanished the register and turned to the class, "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began in a near whisper. Unlike the previous night his voice were not tinged with a note of pride or molecule of happiness at the thought of speaking to his Slytherin's, no, his gaze was directed at the Gryffindor's with an impatient and judgemental edge that seemed to twist its way through his words and kept the classes attention riveted only on him

"Unlike in other subjects the wand is very rarely used here, in fact for the next three years at least your wand shall not even exist your pocket. Many of you will not understand what I'm trying to teach. The process of creating something totally unique and completely amazing will be lost on you because your impatience and ineptitude," he was looking directly at the Gryffindor side of the room and at a certain Weasley in particular, "is too overpowering."

"Anything that can be done with a spell can be done far better with a potion… if one possesses the patience and talent to understand the intricacies of such a task. In this lesson I can teach you to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame and brew glory, a potion can give you everything that you could ever dream of…" He trailed off glanced around the room once before a sneer curled his lips, "But I doubt many of you will be able to rise to such a degree of excellence, I can see, three people in this class that may have the spark, though the rest of you may become admirable potion makers only three of you will be able to create new and fabulous things."

More silence followed this little speech.

"Weasley!" said Snape suddenly snapped, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Mordred glanced over at Weasley and was satisfied to see that even though the Weasley was an acclaimed pureblood name and family there boy was going white with fear as he stammered out, "I – I – I – I don't know Sir," nervously licking his lips as his eyes darted from left to right trying to find an escape.

Snape sighed, a long drawnout sound that seemed to tell a story of long suffering and disappointment, "Pendragon," Snape snapped turning round with a flick of his robes face Mordred, "the same question, answer."

"Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death, it is widely known fact that it was invented by the witch trying to steal the throne of France from the Princess destined to inherit it. The witch rubbed it on the spindle on the Princess's spinning wheel, when she pricked her finger on it she fell into a deep sleep and the witch was able to take over France for a short time."

Snape closed his eyes and a slight upturn of his lips showed his immense pleasure at Mordred answer before he snapped around and stared down at another one of the Slytherin's, "How about another, Zambini, where would I look to find a bezoar and what is it used for?"

Slytherin's eyes turned wide, "I'm not sure Sir," he stated calmly, as if thinking he was above reproof because of his Slytherin status."

His opinion did not seem to be shared by Snape however, he sneered and raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "Pity, clearly a name isn't everything, is it Mr Zambini?" Zambini's eyes bulged and his jaw dropped at the Professors statement spoken so quietly that only the Slytherin's could hear, "Close your mouth child, or you might inhale something you do not want," Snape commanded and turned to Hermione, "Miss Granger, where can a bezoar be found and what are its uses?"

Hermione slightly startled at being addressed by the Professor smiled brilliantly at the chance to show her intellect and gave a triumphant sneer in Zambini's direction before answering, "A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of an animal, though only one taken from the stomach of a goat is using potions and it will save you from most common poisons."

Professor Snape nodded once again and without taking his eyes off Hermione asked, "Mr Thomas, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

The boy to the right of Weasley suddenly froze and he turned towards the Professor opening his mouth few times as if to answer then closing it again, eventually he shrugged and Snape once again let out a suffering sigh before turning to Malfoy, "Well?" He asked.

Malfoy seemed to sit up straight in his chair as he answered, "Monkshood and wolfsbane, are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. The plant is most commonly known to be used in the wolfsbane potion that you Sir invented. The potion allows for werewolves to retain their right minds on a full moon during their transformation."

Professor Snape's lips turned upwards in an almost amused smile as he nodded, "Yes, quite correct Mr Malfoy, a little more of an answer than I was expecting but either way I was right once again, there will be only three of you."

From that point onward potions went downhill for the Gryffindor's; though the Slytherin's were able to follow Snape's directions on how to cut different plants quite easily each and every Gryffindor ended up with some sort of injury by the end of the class. Snape had just finished praising Parkinson for her well crushed beetle eyes when there was a loud screech from the other side of the classroom. Neville Longbottom, the most hopeless person in the class by far had just managed to squirt beetle juice into his eyes, a substance that gave an effect very similar to chewing hot pepper, needless to say the boy was in agony and the lesson had to be cut short so Professor Snape could take the boy to the infirmary. On his way out he shouted over his shoulder that 10 points would be taken from Gryffindor because Weasley didn't warn Longbottom about the beetle juice.

Lunch for Mordred was pretty much the same as breakfast had been, he was able to eat the vegetables and a small bit of the chicken burger that was on offer but that was it. He was sure he saw Hermione shooting him concerned looks but he waved her off. In Transfiguration class that afternoon everybody, both the Slytherin and Hufflepuff's worked especially hard to obtain results, not because of the subject itself but because of the teacher. Professor McGonagall was a tall stately looking woman with greying dark brown hair scraped back into a bun so tight Mordred wondered if it gave his teacher migraines. Like Professor Snape she had a way of keeping everybody in the room as silent as the grave, though Mordred thought the general vibe of the silence was more a respectful silence as opposed to a suppressed fearful one. Though they didn't do much more than try to transfigure a needle into a pin and back again the lesson had been incredibly interesting because of the ongoing theoretical lecture Professor McGonagall kept up while they worked.

It wasn't long however before both Mordred and Hermione noticed the way the Slytherin were incredibly bored, each and every one of them was able to transfigure the needle into a pin and back again; Zambini and Malfoy had even transfigured theirs into little metal stick figures and were racing them across the desks to the cheers of the other Slytherin's. Though Professor McGonagall did attempt to try to stop the boys from mucking around her heart didn't seem to be in it and in the end just left them to it, something that surprised Mordred and Hermione considering how strict she seemed.

At the end of the lesson Mordred motioned to Hermione to stay behind once the others had filed out the two approached Professor McGonagall at her desk.

"May I help you Mr Pendragon, Miss Granger?" She asked the pair as she looked up from the scroll's she was marking.

"I was just wondering Professor," Mordred started with a glance at Hermione, "if there's going to be any formal testing?"

"What do you mean by formal testing Mr Pendragon?" The Professor asks in confusion.

Mordred frowned, "Well I mean surely you're going to test our skills, there are almost a hundred and fifty students in our year group Professor, and we cannot all be at the same skill level. Shouldn't you test us and put us into skill and power appropriate groups?"

Professor McGonagall's eyebrows rose in surprise, "It's never been done before Mr Pendragon and it's worked out perfectly well, I see no reason why anything needs to change."

At this point Hermione seemed not to be able to hold your tongue any longer, "But Professor, every single one of the Slytherin's could do what you taught in class today already, they already have the skill to turn a needle into a pin, some of the Hufflepuff's did as well, it was only the muggleborn's the didn't and them not knowing is holding the others back."

It seemed Hermione had said the wrong thing because as soon as the words were out of her mouth Professor McGonagall's countenance turned bleak, "I do not appreciate you discriminating against your fellow pupils miss Granger, especially seeing as you are one of those so-called muggleborn's."

Hermione looked gobsmacked, "But Professor, I am not holding the class back, I could transfigure a needle into a pin it is only the Hufflepuff muggleborn's that couldn't."

Professor McGonagall's face turned stormy as she stood from her chair powering over the desk at the two first years in front of her, "This is exactly why we do not split the classes Miss Granger, if we split the classes into skill level all of the pureblood's would be in one class, they would never mixed with the muggleborn's and never learn to accept them, if we split it by power level it would be just as bad. Most purebloods go into either Slytherin or Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff is mostly muggleborn's yes but taking into account that Gryffindor is a halfway split between the two that's approximately three quarters of each school year that think they are superior to the rest because of their skill and power level."

"They are superior to the rest," Hermione blurted out and even as Professor McGonagall's eyes turned wild with anger she carried on regardless, "and by keeping those that are able to move faster with those that are not your just breeding resentment, not acceptance."

"Twenty points from Slytherin Miss Granger, now leave before I take more," Professor McGonagall said in a low voice and Mordred seeing that Hermione was readying herself a fight quickly pulled on her arm bodily dragging her out of the classroom, their house already hated them without the point loss.

When they were out in the hallway Hermione turned on him and hissed, "Why did you drag me out, you know I'm right, you saw the way the Slytherin's were glaring at the muggleborn's that couldn't do it, they hate them."

"I know Hermione," Mordred said, trying to calm his friend, "but fighting with Professor McGonagall is not going to get you anything but detention."

Hermione huffed in annoyance, "I suppose you're right," she agreed with a sigh.

The next three days served by cementing in Hermione and Mordred's eyes how completely skewed the Wizarding world's idea of equality was. Just like the first day, in every class the pureblood's outshone the halfbloods and muggleborn's both in their own innate talent and power as well as knowledge level. But like in Professor McGonagall's class there was nothing to be done about it; the teachers would not accept that by forcing the purebloods to work at the muggleborn level they were further damaging any hope of harmony between the two groups.

Malfoy continued to rise in the esteem of his house, he was always one of the first to finish in class, knew every answer to the questions asked him, was very powerful in his spell casting and could outmanoeuvre even some of the third years in the political game's the Slytherin's liked to play. By Wednesday night Menem had officially made him the head of the year within the Slytherin common room, only Mordred saw the strain all the hard work put on Malfoy.

"Do you think it comes naturally to him?" Hermione asked that night with a frown as she looked at Malfoy. He has such, I don't know… grace? I'm not sure that's the right word for it, he seems to be so put together all the time in such an effortless manner."

It was dinnertime, during which Mordred had been able to eat a reasonable amount of food and he had been just about to tuck into his pudding when Hermione had made her observation. He turned to look at Malfoy, who was sitting a little way up from them, holding court with the rest of the first years.

"It's not all effortless or natural," he replied to his friend, taking a spoonful of sticky toffee pudding into his mouth and sighing with happiness, it was quickly becoming his favourite desert.

"What you mean?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, turning back to Mordred.

"He gets up at the same time as I do Hermione," he replied, "but it's not because he doesn't need the sleep, it's because he has to get ready, prepare for the day. Each morning he gets up at six, spent half an hour getting ready then goes into the common and starts reading through books on advanced subjects, combs through all of the day's newspapers which he gets early. It's the way he keeps on top, he knows everything before anyone else does and I suspect he's been taught to do that from birth. He's very talented, I'll give you that, but he's not a smart as either you or I."

"How do you know he's not as smart as us?" Hermione said sceptically, "He's at the top of the class, he is able to do everything first."

"Yes Hermione exactly, he's very talented, but talent and intelligence are two different things. The person does not have to be smart to have a beautiful voice, someone doesn't have to be smart to be a fast runner or a good actor or actress, they just need talent."

Hermione sighed, "I'm sorry Mordred, I just don't understand what you're trying to get at."

With one last glance at Malfoy Mordred leaned across the table and whispered in Hermione's year, "Do you see the bracelet on Malfoy's wrist?" He asked, waiting for Hermione to nod before he went on, "I think it's like some sort of brain or a memory if you will. Every time Malfoy read something, listens in class or does homework in the library writing appears in the stone. I think it's the reason why he is able to retain so much information."

Hermione looked at Mordred in astonishment, "Mordred if you're right it would be something like a computer chip for humans, the very idea is fascinating, we have to get a closer look at it."

Mordred sighed, he should have known dangling something like this in front of Hermione was never a good idea if he didn't want to do anything about it, "Hermione do you really think Malfoy would let us within a mile of him if he knew what we wanted? I think we have to do as much research about this on our own first, find out what that language is for a start."

Hermione sighed and gave one last longing look at the bracelet before she nodded, "All right," she agreed came back and looking down at the half eaten desert in front of Mordred, "I'll back off as long as you eat a meal the size of this one every night for the next two weeks, she replied with an impish grin.

Mordred laughed, "That's called coercion, you sneaky Slytherin."

Hermione sighed in a dreamy manner and fluttered her eyes at Mordred, "Oh my dear darling boy, flattery will get you everywhere." It took only a second before the two were laughing unreservedly, drawing the attention of the rest of their house.

"Shhhh… Hermione," Mordred said in between bouts of laughter, "We're making a scene."

When their giggling had subsided, Hermione looked over at the rest of the house, some of whom were staring at them out right, "Oh yes," she drawled raising an eyebrow and turning back to Mordred, "Heaven forbid we make a scene."

Mordred shook his head, "I don't understand why they care so much about us laughing a little when Nott made that huge fuss in Defence against the Dark Arts when he found out that we weren't going to be doing any actual fighting. The boy practically shouted at Professor Lupin, that drew far more negative attention to Slytherin than us, he even had 10 points taken from Slytherin for it and yet we're the ones that get glared at."

After dinner, he and Hermione went the library and grabbed the secluded corner quietly discussing what they were expecting the next day in class as they did their homework. Throughout the rest of the week they had had normal classes and any other Friday for the rest of the year would be the same. This Friday however, they were scheduled to have a day dedicated to their elective subjects they would pick for third year.

"I think Ancient Runes going to be the most interesting, or maybe Arithmancy," Hermione said speculatively as she packed her books into her bag.

"I'm quite interested to see what Muggle Studies is going to be like," Mordred said as they made their way out of the library, "It's like the difference between Western culture and the Middle Eastern culture. In the West, religion plays very little if any part in our day-to-day life, but it the Middle East their culture is built up around their religion. The difference's between the cultures are vast and sometimes a certain understanding is lost in translation between the two, I'm eager to see how accurate the Wizarding view of muggles is."

The two friends headed in the direction of the Slytherin common room, though they could activate a door to the common room from anywhere in Hogwarts, the rest of the school thought that the Slytherin common room was in the dungeon. Therefore to keep up appearances they all used the main designated spot that Snape had first shown them the night before; apparently the other means of activating a portal would normally only used in emergencies.

Fate however, decided that Hermione and Mordred would not make it back to the common room that night.


	4. Memory Chapter 4

Ok so this one's a bit more of a mess than the others, I haven't had a chance to Properly go through it!

This Chapter Word Count- 15,957

Serpent Skin Chapter 4

Memory

Mordred was the first to notice that someone was following them from dinner, though their pursuers were quiet, in a deserted dungeon corridor even the most insignificant of sounds could be heard. Halting Hermione in her rant about Professor McGonagall with a silent command to listen, the pair turned their ears towards the way they had just come and sure enough the pair could hear light footsteps until their pursuers realised they had stopped and then everything went silent.

Turning worried eyes towards Hermione Mordred gave her a questioning look. Hermione looked at him for a moment before seeming to come to some decision, opening her mouth she said, "Oh Mordred, stop being so paranoid, it's probably a mouse, we are in the dungeon after all." So saying, she tugged on Mordred's robes, getting him to move and tucking her arm through his, turning down the corridor and proceeding to continue her rant about Professor McGonagall.

During a pause in her speech however, Hermione leaned it towards Mordred and whispered frantically, "On the count of three, run! When we're far enough away open a portal to the common room."

They never got far enough, first years as they were, and their pursuers seemingly some of the older students were far faster than them. A group of six students cornered the pair at the end of a long corridor, three of them the boys and two of them girls."

"Oh, look what we have here, two little Slytherin's all on their own," cooed one of the girls, a chubby thing with long straggly brown hair and a face so sad looking it reminded Mordred of a Basset Hound.

"They look rather scared don't they," observed another girl that Mordred recognised as Murray, the girl that had taunted Peregrine earlier that day.

"They should be," one of the boys growled, levelling his wand at Mordred's head, a sneer curling his lips, "filthy little mudblood's."

"But they don't have to be," one of the other boys put it in, stepping forward calmly and asserting himself in front of the group. He crouched down in front of the two and pinned them with a set of light, almost white blue eyes, "All we want to the location of the entrance to the Slytherin common room and if you give us that we will leave you alone and you won't remember a thing about this."

"Brigg don't waste your time," muttered a thin willowy girl with long dirty blonde hair and nails so sharp they look like they could cut glass, stepping forward and pressing herself against Briggs side, "They won't tell us without a little bit of… persuasion." She purred into his ear, "Especially considering the reason we need to get into the Slytherin common room, my brother was in Slytherin remember, I know how their minds work." Both Hermione and Mordred shuddered as the girls voice became sultrier the longer she talked curling her leg around him.

"I don't get it," the brutish looking boy with spiky blond hair exclaimed, "why would the fact that we want Menem make them more reluctant to tell us where the entrance is?"

Mordred and Hermione immediately tensed up at the mention of the Slytherin leader and the other five turned to hiss at the blonde.

"Look what you've done now Herrin," the blonde said with a shake of her head, "they're never going to tell us anything now."

"Oh yes they will," Murray laughed, and malicious sneer gracing her face, "three words ladies and gentlemen, _Divide and Conquer_."

The other five looked Murray, but she only had eyes for Mordred and Hermione, "These two Slytherin's are outsiders even within their own house, they look after each other everyone can see that so the question is what would one of them do if the other were in pain?"

At that moment as if by some subconscious signal between between the pair, both Mordred and Hermione pulled their wands from that holsters on their wrists and attempted to fire at their attackers. They weren't quick enough however and six disarming spells suddenly shot at them, causing their wands to fly into the air and land in their attackers hands.

"We'll never tell, you know," Hermione stated her eyes hard she grabbed hold of Mordred's hand in silent support, "and when this is over we'll just go to one of the teachers and tell them everything."

"Funny you should say that little mudblood," Basset Hound girl said, stepping forward to point her wand between Hermione's eyes at the same time that Briggs did the same to Mordred, "because as a matter-of-fact you won't remember everything, don't worry though, you'll remember most of it, the pain and the fear and the despair, you even remember finally giving in and handing over the location of the common room actually the only thing you won't remember… is who we are." And then the world fell into pain.

Hermione felt consciousness slowly coming back to her and with it the memories of what had happened. Immediately she stopped moving, waiting for the pain to return to her limbs, for her bones to feel as if they were melting from her body, but when minute passed and the pain did not return she slowly opened her eyes and looked around. Lying beside her Mordred was still unconscious and Hermione couldn't help tears come to her eyes as she remembered the hours upon hours of pain that he'd endured while she'd watched helplessly, held back by… someone.

Shakily getting onto her hands and knees she crouched over Mordred and checked him for injuries, sighing in relief when she found none. Just at that moment something brushed against her back and Hermione immediately spun round in terror before freezing and laughing shakily at the sight before her. Crookshanks was sat there, till flicking back and for with both Hermione and Mordred's wand clamped in his jaw.

"Oh Crookshanks," she beamed, leaning forward and gathering the cat into her arms, "you were such a smart brave boy, going up against all those bullies! You're going to be eating salmon and drinking milk for a week!"

Still cuddling the cat to her chest she carefully removed the wands from his maw and leaned over Mordred once again, "Mordred," she whispered, shaking him lightly, "Mordred you have to wake up now."

With a groan Mordred sat up blinking and as his memories flooded back, frantically looked around. When he realised that there was no one but them and Crookshanks in the corridor he turned back to Hermione, "What happened?" He asked.

"You passed out," she said simply, "when they realised that they couldn't get anything out of you, they turned on me but… Crookshanks… a little while after they started… I can't… I can't get it right in my head, it is all jumbled up."

Mordred sat up slowly, waiting for any kind of pain or residual ache to make itself known. When nothing happened, when his body felt only the ache of lying on a hard cold stone floor for a time, he frowned, "What I want to know is why the both of us are completely unharmed, this not a single scratch on our bodies that wasn't there before," Mordred frowned as he inspected his body for any new cuts or bruises.

Hermione shook her head, "I don't know but –" at that moment a loud screeching from Crookshanks alerted them to another feline presence in the Hall; Mrs Norris was sitting a few paces away from Crookshanks illuminated golden eyes fixed on Hermione and Mordred.

"Sweet?" Came a croaky voice from just around the corner and immediately after Argus Filch appeared, "Well… well done my sweet, students out of bed, the headmaster won't be happy," with maniacal looking grin plastered across his face Filch turned and picked Mrs Norris, "Well come on then," he said looking back at the two that had not moved off the ground.

With a look at Hermione, Mordred stilled her before the argument he could see brewing could spill from her lips. There was no use in arguing with Filch, he was only the caretaker and from something Mordred had heard muttered about him during dinner, a very sadistic one. At the lack of protest, Filch surprisingly did not continue trying to berate them and was able to lead both Hermione and Mordred through the dungeons without very much complaint.

Severus Snape was just about to leave his potions lab and return to his own quarters for the night when he heard a loud knock against the lab door. Severus sighed, it was most likely Argus, come to him so he could deal with some rule breaking student out of bed; the other option was Albus come to demand he perform some impossible task in the name of _the Greater Good_.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts he strode towards the door flicking it open with his wand as he went. If Severus had not been as adept at hiding his emotions as he was Severus might well have stopped dead at the sight that greeted him. Standing in his doorway was Argus, flanked on either side by two of his first year students. That in and of itself was not what surprised him though; seeing Argus escorting students anywhere was not an uncommon sight as a man had an uncanny ability to find rule breakers within the Castle, no, what really caught his attention was the fact that Argus was smiling, and not some gruesome twist between a sneer and a malicious grin, a genuinebona fied smile.

"So you're saying as far as you know Mrs Norris is just a normal cat?" Mr Pendragon asked with what seemed like genuine interest, looking up at Angus questioningly, as he stroked the preening purring feline in his arms. He was shaking slightly, Severus noted and there were large black rings under his eyes, Miss Granger, leaning against the wall with her own cat held in her arms looked far worse however.

"Yes, as far as I know," Angus replied as he bent down slightly to scratch Mrs Norris's head as well.

"What is going on here?" Snape asked, a tinge of genuine confusion actually managing to enter his otherwise monotone voice as he stared at the bizarre sight in front of him.

Argus seemed to come out of some sort of daze as he shook his head and looked down ruefully at the two children in front of him, "Sorry you two, but I've got to do my job and –"

"It's okay Mr Filch," Mr Pendragon said in the soothing, if slightly weak voice as he hiked Mrs Norris further onto his trembling shoulders, "We completely understand and we would have come to Professor Snape anyway, so really by bringing as here you granted us a favour; we wouldn't have known where his private potions lab was otherwise, so you've been a great help, thank you."

"Before you say anything more," Severus stated, seeing Argus open his mouth to reply to the boy, "May I repeat, what is going on here?"

Argus cleared his throat and the smile that had graced his face disappeared as he looked at Severus, "I found these two looking rather disorientated and dazed three corridors over, thought it best to bring them to you Professor."

Looking oddly at Argus once more and wondering whether the caretaker had been replaced Severus nodded once, "Thank you Argus, I shall take it from here."

Argus seemed to hesitate for a moment, "Professor, they were very good, came quietly and all, don't punish them too hard, they don't seem well."

At this statement, Severus's eyes bulged and his jaw dropped, all semblance of composure gone. It took a second for him to regain his wits and when he did he motioned the two silent students to follow him into the lab. With a look at Mr Pendragon Miss Granger cautiously stepped into the lab while Mr Pendragon set a disgruntled Mrs Norris down on the floor and thanked Argus calmly once again for bringing them to Severus.

Snapping the door shut when Argus had left, Severus made a silent motion with his hand the two to follow him through to his office. Sitting with two down in front of his desk he rounded it and took a seat surveying them with narrowed eyes.

"Very well lets get to it then, it is two o'clock in the morning, why are you, two _first-year_ students out of bed?" His voice may have sounded harsher than he had intended for looks of genuine fear and pain crossed their faces at his words, he noted Miss Granger tightening her hold on her cat.

"We didn't mean to be out so late," Mr Pendragon said in a tired voice, "We were walking back from dinner."

"Dinner was at seven o'clock Mr Pendragon, like I said before it is now two o'clock in the morning, what have you been doing for the past seven hours?"

"We're sorry Professor," Miss Granger whispered, "we tried to get back to the common room, we really did but…" She trailed off and Severus watched with a pang of concern as the girls started to shake more violently than before.

"Miss Granger," Severus said in alarm as he rushed round his desk to the girl. She did not respond his words, but when he touched her arm she flinch back with a cry.

"Professor, I think she needs a Calming Draught or something to put her to sleep maybe?" Came a quiet voice from beside him and Severus turned to see Mr Pendragon looking at him and biting his lip nervously.

Severus nodded, feeling slightly sheepish at being told what to do by a eleven-year-old as he rose from his place in front of miss Granger and hurriedly grabbed a Calming Draught from his potions store. When he tried to give the potion to the small girl however, she once again flinched away in fright and Severus was at a loss what to do.

A small hand on his shoulder startled Severus into turning, "Give it to me," Mr Pendragon said holding out his hand for the vial. Severus silently handed over the potion and watched as Mr Pendragon step forward cautiously.

"Hermione," he said softly, slowly placing his hand on the trembling girl, drawing closer and placing an arm around her when he realised she wasn't going to flinch away as she had with Severus, "Hermione I need you to take this for me, okay?" He asked, holding the vial up for the girls inspection.

Miss Granger looked at the vial from moment before nodding and allowing Mr Pendragon to tip its contents down her throat.

Mordred couldn't help his sigh of relief as Hermione started to relax in his arms, eyes slowly falling shut as the potion took effect. Slowly removing his arm from around her when her breathing had evened out into deep sleep he went and sat back in his own and and turned to face his Professor and Head of House.

"Mr Pendragon, what happened?" Professor Snape asked, concern clear in his eyes.

Mordred shook his head, "We were walking back from dinner, and there were people following us," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to stop the fear and pain from clouding his mind, "We started running, trying to get far enough away from them so that we could open a portal to the common room but we never got a chance, the cornered us."

"What happened next Mr Pendragon," Professor Snape asked when Mordred stop talking, caught in the slight memory of the event.

Startled, Mordred looked up, "Sorry Professor… There were six of them and they… they wanted to know where the entrance to the Slytherin common room was… I think… I think they want to get back at Menem for something."

"Menem?" Professor Snape asked with a raised eyebrow before taking his wand and writing, _"Come to my office immediately!" _in the air with glowing scripture. Swinging his wand through the air once more the message seemed to be absorbed into its tip before Professor Snape tapped it to his silver Slytherin ring.

"That's…" He trailed off, "Do our rings do that?" He asked the Professor curiously, understanding he had just sent a message to someone, probably Menem.

Professor Snape smirked, "No, only the prefects and the Head of Slytherin have rings which can communicate with mine like that."

A minute passed, but then a bright white crack seemed to appear in the air, and seconds later Menem was climbing through into Snape's office.

"You called me Prof?" He asked, and then sneered when he spotted Mordred and Hermione sitting in front of his desk.

"Do not bring your hatred of them into this room," Professor Snape hissed at Menem, causing the boys startled attention to revert back to his professor, "From what Mr Pendragon has told me so far, they just got attacked because of something you did." Accusation was thick and hanging in the air as Menem's surprised eyes swivelled back to Mordred before narrowing.

"What happened?" He asked harshly.

"It seems a group of six students took it into their heads to follow Mr Pendragon and Miss Granger from dinner with the intention of finding out where the entrance to the Slytherin common room was," Snape explained in a monotone almost dangerous voice, "They wanted to find out so they could get to you for some reason, have you offended any students lately Menem?"

Menem, who seemed not to know who to look anymore sighed and with a flick of his wand conjured a chair before sinking into it, "I'm a Slytherin Prince Professor, I have many enemies and make more on a frequent basis, however I cannot think of any students that I've offended enough to -"

"Excuse me," Mordred interrupted, waiting until he had both both Professor Snape and Menem's attention for continuing, "They said something… I'm sorry," He shook his head as pain lashed through his brain, "they said something about wanting you, it may not have been in revenge, though I do highly doubt they have pure motives if they cornered us to try and get to you."

"What did they do exactly?" Menem asked causing Mordred to gulp.

"They… they used spells on us," he said slowly, "I don't think any of them were illegal or even Dark in nature, from what I remember they were very simple spells… but the pain…" He trailed off looking up to see both Professor Snape and Menem looking anxious.

"We need to take this to the headmaster," Professor Snape said rising from his desk and striding towards the door.

"What?" Menem snarled, "We do not need to involve the old goat in this at all."

Snape turned and looked at Menem straight in the eye, "Yes actually Mr Menem we do need to involve the headmaster because as it stands if we wish to go any further in this investigation, if we wish to legally punish the people involved we will need his cooperation."

Turning round Professor Snape grabbed a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the fire, he stuck his head in for a moment, but none of the other three could make out what he said. After a moment he took his head out of the flames before turning and flicking his wand at Hermione, causing her to wake up.

"Mr Pendragon would you please help escort Miss Granger up to the headmaster's office." It was not a question, it was a demand and with that that's how Mordred found himself with one arm wrapped securely around Hermione the party of four making their way up through the Castle towards the seventh floor of the West tower.

Stopping outside a large statue of a winged gargoyle the three students watched as Professor Snape stepped forward and recited, "Ice mice," causing the gargoyle to come abruptly to life and leap out of the way revealing a spiral staircase.

Following quietly after their professor the four soon found themselves standing in a circular room every wall covered with portraits and shelves with odd trinkets that ticked and whirled and emitted puffs of multicoloured smoke.

Set on a raised deities in the middle of the room was a huge desk and in front of the desk sat four overstuffed armchairs, each as mismatched as the next and covered in the most horrible polkadot and pinstriped fabrics Mordred had ever seen in his life.

Behind the desk Dumbledore sat smiling serenely at four in front of him, his long beard slung over her shoulder, blue eyes twinkling madly and dressed in clothes that Mordred suspected were made out of the same material as the armchair fabric.

"May I ask Severus, what brings you here so late at night," Dumbledore asked raising a hand to his mouth to cover a yawn that Mordred had the oddest suspicion was fake, "these old bones aren't what they used to be and they do need more sleep than they used to. Please sit." He seemed to say it as an afterthought, indicating the technicolour armchairs in front of him.

"A suspected attack on two of my students Albus," Snape replied tightly as the four settled into the chairs, Hermione and Mordred taking one between the two of them the need to be close overpowering, "I would think that was enough of a reason to disturb you from your beauty sleep."

Dumbledore's eyes lost their twinkle and the slight smile that had graced his face vanished, "What happened Severus?"

Just then the fireplace in the corner flared up and Mme Pomfrey stepped out, immediately going over to Hermione and Mordred, all the while muttering about students out of bed at the wrong time of night.

"It would seem," Professor Snape started in a low voice, "that six older students within the school took it upon themselves to corner and torture two of my first years in the hopes of getting the location and password of the Slytherin common room. It seems the students wish to get a hold of Mr Menem here; the reason as to why they wish to get a hold of Mr Menem is as yet unknown."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed further as he looked down at Mordred and Hermione, "They seem perfectly fine to me Severus," Dumbledore observed as his eyes scanned over the pair from head to toe looking for injury, "Poppy, what is your prognosis, is there anything wrong with either Miss Granger or Mr Pendragon?"

Madam Pomfrey, who had just finished feeding Hermione another calming draught turned and looked at Dumbledore, "They are completely exhausted Albus, I'm surprised that either of them is even able to stand up, they are running on adrenaline alone at this point, but other than that I can find nothing wrong with them, there's not a scratch on either of recent enough to have been done tonight. Although you," she said, turning to Mordred and pointing a bony finger between his eyes, "Are going to come and see me as soon as possible for a general checkup, do you understand?"

Mordred nodded quickly and turned back to look at Dumbledore when the headmaster said, "So there is nothing physically wrong with them but exhaustion, nothing at all Poppy?"

"No headmaster," Madam Pomfrey said in a slightly cautious tone, as if her answer was not the one she wanted to give, "like I said, there nothing recent enough to have been done tonight or any time this week if I am correct."

"Very well, what would you suggest Poppy?" Dumbledore asked as if he were simply talking about the weather and not to children's physical health, "Other than looking a little tired, they looked perfectly fine to me."

Madam Pomfrey raised an incredulous eyebrow at the headmaster but simply said, "A good night's sleep should be all that is needed, they should sleep in the infirmary tonight to make sure nothing else comes up but other than that…"

Madam Pomfrey trailed off as a low whimpering sound came from the direction of Hermione and Mordred's chair, "I think would be best if we went back to our dormitories tonight Madam Pomfrey, if that's allowed," Mordred said quietly, feeling the blood draining from his face at the thought of the infirmary, "The Slytherin dorms… our attackers don't know where they are so we would be far safer there than in the infirmary which everyone knows the location of and is easily accessed by other students."

Out the corner of his eye Mordred saw Snape grit his teeth, "Oh yes Albus, I see exactly what you mean, they are perfectly fine Albus, the fact that Miss Granger is shaking like a leaf and Mr Pendragon looks like he is about to throw up has no bearing whatsoever. Why, Miss Granger almost went into shock earlier before I gave her a Calming Draught;" Snape glanced at Mordred and he could have sworn Snape looked almost proud of him, "Mr Pendragon is faring a little better I will admit."

Dumbledore nodded without taking his eyes off of Mordred, "Very well, but we will need more proof than simply the word of two students, Mr Pendragon, would you permit me to enter your mind and take a copy memory of the event to see for myself first-hand what happened?"

Mordred stopped his eyes from automatically turning to slits as he looked back at the headmaster. He didn't feel like he could trust this man and when a strange creeping feeling stole over his mind as if trying to sink into his conscience he automatically broke eye contact and the feeling left, "I'm sorry Professor," he said looking over at Professor Snape with pleading eyes, "but I will only allow Professor Snape to enter my mind. He can take the memory from me." He did not want the headmaster poking around at all his private thoughts.

Professor Dumbledore seemed startled at Mordred's slight defiance but conceded when Mordred pointedly refused to look back at him. Indicating that Professor Snape should go ahead the headmaster sat back in his chair, steepled his fingers together in front of his face and watched.

Professor Snape knelt down in front of Mordred and looked into his eyes, "Mr Pendragon, I'm going to need you to concentrate on the point where you started noticing someone was following you, can you do that?"

Mordred nodded and he felt Hermione starting to shake more violently in his arms as Professor Snape's wand came closer to his temple. Seconds later a feeling of some other presence drifted through his mind, but then seconds later it was gone and Professor Snape was pulling back, and odd silvery tadpole like substance hanging from the end of his wand. Quickly professes Snape conjured a bottle and placed the odd silvery substance into it.

"You may wish to take Hermione's memory of it too Sir," Mordred said, "I think I passed out before the end."

Professor Snape nodded and turned towards Hermione the girl shrug back further into the chair. With a shake of his head Professor Snape crouched down even further trying to get her to look him in the eye, asking softly, "Miss Granger?" When was no response from Hermione Professor Snape sighed and placed a hand lightly on her shoulder, "Hermione?" He said even more softly and smiled slightly when she stopped shaking quite as violently, "Hermione, can you do this for me, can you give me the memory of what happened, I know you don't want to remember but it'll only be this once and after you can forget all about it."

Hermione's eyes peeked out from where she was huddled in Mordred's arms and there was a slight nod of her head as she lightly placed her hand on Professor Snape's guiding his wand to her temple. Just like before when Professor Snape pulled away a silvery substance was hanging at the end of his wand and he placed it into the bottle with the other one, murmuring something softly under his breath and causing the two silvery liquids to combine into one.

Mordred watched as Snape handed the vial of memory to the headmaster and walked over to a large cabinet at the side of his desk. Sitting in the cabinet was a large white stone basin all riddled with silver veins and containing large quantities of the same odd silvery like substance that Professor Snape had just taken from their mind.

"After you Severus," the Professor said indicating the bowl as he pulled the contents of the bottle into the bowl.

"Wait, I want to come to," Mordred said coming forward, "I want to find out what they did to me, what they did to Hermione."

"I do was well," said Menem coming up beside Mordred, "If someone is after me, I want to know who it is and why."

Dumbledore looked as if he were about to object, but Professor Snape simply nodded and said, "Very well, then you how this works Menem, simply dive in." Menem nodded, leaning over the bowl and dipping his head on the surface of the liquid the rest of his body seem to be sucked into the bowl. Wide-eyed, Mordred looked at Snape who simply indicated for him to go next. Nodding his head Mordred stepped forward and ducked his head under the surface of the liquid. There was the odd sensation of his feet leaving the floor, the headmaster's office and falling into spectrum of swirling colours before they all seemed to come together and he found himself stood next to Menem as first Snape, then Dumbledore and finally Hermione appeared.

"Hermione, what you doing here?" Mordred asked as the shaking girl dived into his arms.

"I'm not leaving you to watch this on your own Mordred," Hermione said, locking her arms more tightly around his waist.

Knowing it was useless to argue Mordred nodded and wrapped his own arms around Hermione as they turned to watch the scene unfold before them.

Hermione and Mordred watched as their memory selves ran down the dungeon corridor and came to the dead-end where they were cornered; but when their pursuers came round the corner something strange had happened.

"Hey, they –" Mordred started but Snape interrupted him.

"Be quiet, we will disgust it later, for now just watch."

Mordred frowned but obediently looked back at their pursuers, at least what he thought to be their pursuers. Even in his own mind he could not remember their faces, could not pick out their body shape, could not even tell whether they were tall or short and that was exactly what he saw in front of him, shapeless dark splodges in his memory that moved like humans but had no other similarities.

"Oh, look what we have here, two little Slytherin's all on their own," cooed a voice from one of the shadow figures, a voice that sounded so completely inhuman that none of the watchers could even tell whether it was the boy or girl speaking.

Mordred closed his eyes and listened, "They look rather scared don't they?"

"They should be, filthy little mudblood's," nothing, Mordred thought with frustration, they all sounded the same to him, though his brain told him they were different speakers, his ears could not distinguish a single unique trait between the different people speaking.

"But they don't have to be. All we want is the location of the entrance to the Slytherin common rooms and if you give us that we will leave you alone and you won't remember a thing about this." Mordred felt Professor Snape tence beside him.

"… don't waste your time. They won't tell us without a little bit of… persuasion." A shadow spoke, leaning into one of the other shadows, "Especially considering the reason we need to get into the Slytherin common room, my brother was in Slytherin remember, I know how their minds work."

Mordred's eyes snapped open, his eyes zeroing in on the shadow that had just spoken, something was missing off the start of its sentence.

Looking up at the Professor Snape he opened his mouth but the professor simply nodded and mouthed, _"I know,"_ cutting Mordred off before he could even speak.

"I don't get it," another monotone, inhuman voice said, "why would the fact that we want Menem make them more reluctant to tell us where the entrance is?"

Mordred glanced down at Hermione who was watching the scene with a morbid fascination clearly portrayed on her face. They watched their past selves tense up and look at each other fearfully.

"Look what you've done now…,they're never going to tell us anything."

"Oh yes they will, three words ladies and gentlemen, Divide and Conquer." A fearful whimper escaped Hermione as the words washed over them, the two both knowing what was to come next, "These two Slytherin's are outsiders even within their own house, they look after each other, everyone can see that, so the question is… what would one of them do if the other were in pain?"

Hearing the words a second time did not stop the fear that coursed through Mordred as they were spoken and it was only a single strong hand on his shoulder that stop him from collapsing on the ground.

"We'll never tell you, you know," past Hermione stated as she grabbed hold of past Mordred's hand in silent support, "and when this is over we'll just go to one of the professors and tell them everything."

"Funny you should say that little mudblood," a shadow hissed, seeming to glide forward and point an indistinguishable wand at past Hermione's temple as another did the same to past Mordred's, "because as a matter-of-fact you _won't_ remember everything. Don't worry though, you'll remember the most important bits, the pain we're about to inflict, the fear you felt and the despair when you realise there's no escape. The problem is, that's the only thing you will remember."

Mordred watched captivated as his past self collapsed on the stop floor, gritting his teeth and shaking as what looked like electrical currents were sent through his body.

"No!" Past Hermione shouted as he watched her friend thrashing about on the floor in pain, "No… Mordred… Leave him alone! Please! Please!"

"Now, now little mudblood," the shadow that was holding past Hermione murmured in her ear, "This is all your fault you know, you can stop this, all you need to do is tell us where the Slytherin common room is, tell us how to get in there little mudblood and all this will be over, we'll let you go."

"Did you know mudblood that the spell now being used on your friend is like a slightly less painful form of the Cruciatus?" One of the shadows asked.

Past Hermione gritted her teeth and turned her head as far as she could, spitting into the face of the shadow who had just spoke, "You're disgusting!"

The shadow that had been holding her growled, "… I think it's time we step this up a notch, I think the mudblood needs slightly more visual effects to understand the pain that she's putting her friend through," and without another word the shadow flung past Hermione away from itself towards another of the shadows who grabbe what are you doing stop d her and strode towards Mordred's still thrashing body. Pointing its own wand at Mordred the shadow mumbled something under its breath and just as Mordred body stopped shaking he was hit with another curse.

Feeling echoes of the pain he had suffered emanate through his mind Mordred finally allowed his legs to give out from underneath him as he and Hermione slid to the floor. Holding his friend close, he whispered in her ear, "It's okay, its okay Hermione… it's over now, I'm here, we're okay, we're okay…"

A loud scream from in front of them brought the pair's attention back to the scene and they watched horrified as the curse placed on past Mordred slowly started to take a visible effect, as his flesh was torn open in shallow cuts all over his body; the longer the wand was held pointed at him the deeper the cut seemed to get and pretty soon blood was flowing freely from wounds.

"We've never done anything to you!" Past Hermione screamed struggling to get free, "Why do this to us?"

"It's nothing personal," one of the shadows said, "you are simply a means to an end that we have been trying to achieve for years."

One of the other shadows stepped up to Mordred's side and pointed his wand at Mordred, seconds later Mordred's body was completely healed, only for him to arch in pain, a silent scream escaping his mouth as another curse was thrown at him.

It went on like that for what felt like hours, the shadows would torture Mordred, maim his body beyond all recognition and then in the blink of an eye heal him completely, only to start the process all over again. When it became obvious that neither Mordred nor Hermione was going to say anything, their tormentors became impatient and attention was turned on Hermione. Mordred, beyond any kind of coherent thought due to the pain he was in had gone into a coma like state that not even an_ enervate _could revive him from. It was quite soon after that as Hermione was screaming from the latest spell used on her that a sudden shattering reverberated through the air causing it to waver like a mirage for a moment. Not seconds later a loud screeching sound emitted from a giant ball of fur that came careening into the two's tormentors scattering them like pins at a bowling alley.

That was when the memory went blank.

Before anyone could do or say anything much the five once again found themselves stood in Professor Dumbledore's office, where Mme Pomfrey seemed to have disappeared from.

Dumbledore indicated for the four to once again take their seats as he strode over and paced behind his desk all the while muttering under his breath.

Eventually Snape seemed to lose all patients with the old man and said tightly, "Albus, stop your incessant pacing right this instant I'm going stir crazy over here while you mutter to yourself, tell us what you thinking."

Dumbledore turned to look at Snape in surprise, as if only just remembering that they were there, "I am going through my options Severus," the old wizard sighed, "and I am starting to think there is very little to be done."

Professor Snape attempts to his seat, "What can you possibly mean Albus, this is a cut and dry case, my students have been attacked, the students that have done the attacking will be punished, most likely expelled with their wands broken and my students will get counselling for the trauma they have been put through."

Professor Dumbledore shook his head, a sad look stealing over his face as he gazed earnestly at the man in front of him, "I do not think that will be the case in this instance Severus."

If he had not been looking for it, Mordred could easily have missed the way Snape's shoulders tensed and his eyes changed from smouldering coals to flinty cold slate in an instant, "What do you mean?" His Professor asked lowly.

Dumbledore seemed to have noticed the change as well because he straightened slightly, his pale icy eyes locking with Snape's, "I am sorry my boy, but there is very little I can do in this. You saw it yourself, in that memory there is not a single indication of who the attackers are and short of interrogating the entire student body while under veritaserum there is very little chance that any of them are going to tell the truth and own up to such a heinous crime."

"Are you saying, that you are just going to let this slide Albus?" Snape asked incredulously, "These two _first-year_ students have been attacked and you intend to do nothing about it?"

"Like I said Severus, short of putting the whole of the student body under veritaserum and questioning them, which by the way is completely illegal if the participant is under the age of 17 or a student at Hogwarts in any situation, there is very little I can do. We do not know the identity of the attacker and because Mr Pendragon is so reluctant to allow me into his head we may never know. Then of course is the question of how on earth this attack could have gone on unnoticed in such a heavily used corridor in the dungeons. Add to that the fact that neither of the victims have a single scratch on them and we come up with one big dead end. It's highly likely that what really happened is that the student thought it would be funny to plant this horribly grotesque false memory in their head as a prank. If that truly is the case, then we have even less evidence than we did when they had truly been attacked; I'm sorry Severus but my hands are tied, there is nothing I can do.

"Nothing you can do, or nothing you will do?" Snape asked dangerously, his hands clenching at his side.

Mordred had never seen anyone looks so furious in his life as the headmaster did right now, "What exactly are trying to imply with that statement Severus?"

"You know exactly what I'm implying Albus," stated Snape, refusing to back down, "You have become so caught up in your search for Harry bloody Potter that you have forsaken the well-being of every other student, you have pushed their needs to the side in your relentless pursuit of a boy that is in all probability dead already."

It seemed like neither Professor was going to back down but with a shake of his head Professor Dumbledore looked away from Snape towards the three students watching the scene unfold with interest, "This is not a conversation to be had in front of children Severus," he said calmly, "I suggest you take your students safely back to their common room and we can discuss this at a later date."

For a split second it looked like Professor Snape was about to object but then with a flick of his wrist behind him the door to the office sprung open and with a swirling swish of his robes he was gone.

"Mr Pendragon, Mr Menem, Miss Granger, I think it's time you all went to bed," Dumbledore said to the three students, a steely quality to his soft declaration that seemed to make Menem jumped to attention, grabbing Mordred and Hermione each by the shoulder and pulling out of the office.

Snape was nowhere to be seen when they reached the bottom of the spiral staircase, but Menem did not break his stride as he kept silently ushering his two charges in the direction of the dungeons.

They found Professor Snape in the corridor where the two had been attacked, he was looking around and waving his wand as if trying to find some evidence of the attack truly happened. In that moment Mordred could not have been more proud to have the man as his head of house. When they offered assistance however, the man seemed he shook his head and motioned them to carry on. Feeling too tired to argue with three carried on and eventually reached the official entrance to the Slytherin common room. Menem with a tired sigh stated the password and entered gently nudging the other two in the direction of the first-year area.

"I'll fix it for you two to have the day off tomorrow," he murmured, his hand brushing once over Mordred's shoulder in some form of approval as he turned his back on them and vanished from sight.

"Come on Hermione," Mordred said wrapping his arms around the girl beside him and tugging her towards the dormitory stairwell.

"Mordred I… I can't," she whimpered when Mordred indicated she should go up to the girls dormitories, "I can't go up there on my own, not tonight… please."

Mordred sighed, "Come on then," he said slowly taking her down the stairs towards his own dormitory and quietly pushing the door open. Laying Hermione down on his bed he turned around taking off his outer robes and shoes. When he turned back around he smiled sadly the sight of Hermione completely collapsed from exhaustion on his bed in front of him. Shaking his head he removed Hermione's shoes and outer robes before levitating her just enough to work the quilts and blankets out from underneath her. Climbing into bed he pulled Hermione close to him covering them with the quilts as he went and in seconds was dead to the world.

The next morning dawned bright with the light penetrating even the deepest depths of the Slytherin dungeon, but for Mordred and Hermione, their day was not about to begin so early, or so they thought.

Mordred eyes had only just flickered open because of the ray of light coming through his bed curtains when every single one of them was pulled back to reveal his rather irate looking roommates.

"Come on Pendragon, I don't care what's wrong with you but…" Draco trailed off at the sight before him. The mudblood had her head pillowed on Pendragon's chest whimpering slightly and Pendragon had his arms wrapped possessively around her as he glared straight at Draco.

"Mordred make the light go away," the mudblood cried piteously and Pendragon shushed her, stroking her hair once with his hand before sliding out of bed and covering her in the quilt.

"What in Merlin's name is going on?" Blaise asked from beside Draco, and the blonde felt his heart sink, Blaise had been lacking for a reason to have a go at the two mudbloods since the first day when the girl had shown him in potions, "having one mudblood in our room is bad enough but when you two started shacking up together I at least thought you'd have the decency to do it away from here."

Pendragon gave Blaise and incredulous stare before he grabbed his wand and flicked it, causing the drapes around the bed to shut, "Look at what I'm wearing Zambini," he said gesturing down at his school trousers and undershirt, "Does it look like I was doing anything particularly sexual? Plus I think we're all a little young to be thinking about that I'm what, 11 years old?"

Blaise seemed to realise his mistake because with an annoyed shrug and last glare at Pendragon he backed away and looked at Draco, handing over the job of talking back to him. Draco growled at his friend, he knew he was their leader, but when the Blaise started argument that he couldn't finish it was not his job to do it for him.

"What is the other mudblood doing in our room Pendragon?" He asked with a put upon sigh, as if he was talking to a small child.

"Don't call her that!" Pendragon growled, but when Draco simply raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for his answer he sighed and continued, "We were attacked last night," he said in a low voice and when Draco's eyes widened in astonishment he went quickly, "They tortured us, they would hurt us, use curses on us and then they'd suddenly heal us and start all over again. In the end Hermione's cat scared them away and we lost consciousness."

Draco looked Pendragon over from head to foot, though he looked a little pale nothing else seemed to be wrong and he said as much.

Pendragon frowned and his countenance changed completely, his fists clenching and his teeth grinding, anger shimmering in his eyes, "When we fell unconscious we were both badly hurt, but when we woke up every single one of our injuries were gone. Madam Pomfrey looked us over, but she could find nothing wrong with us apart from being completely exhausted. I'm sure you'll find out more about it later on today, I can't imagine Professor Snape keeping quiet about it."

Draco looked the boy in front of him over once again; he didn't seem to stand straight as you normally did there were big bags under his bloodshot eyes. Making a snap decision Draco abruptly turned around digging into his bedside Cabinet and bringing out two small vials of clear green liquid that had tiny flecks of black floating around in them.

He handed the two vials to Pendragon and at the other boys quizzical look explained, "It's Bottled Sleep, it can't be used all the time as there are some rather terrible side-effects but the one-time uses it's fine. We cannot show you any compassion publicly because you are as far as we know mudbloods, but we are solid as a house Pendragon and we present a solid front. If you were truly attacked then showing up to class today looking like that is going to make them think they've won, that they've found a weak link in the Slytherin chain and that cannot happen."

"Thank you Malfoy," Pendragon said with a nod, trying to hand back the vials at the same time, "but you don't need to give us these, Menem gave us the day off."

Draco huffed, "And that will have the exact same effect as showing up looking battered Pendragon. Take the Bottled Sleep and go to class, that is order from me as the head of our year."

"How do I know I can trust you?" Pendragon asked, a frown tilting his lips.

"You don't," Draco said simply and was about to turn away when the vials were shoved back at him.

"Then I'm afraid I can't exept them Malfoy," Pendragon replied, waiting for Draco to take them back.

For some reason Pendragons refusal angered Draco, all he wanted to do was help, "For Merlins sake Pendragon, just take the damed potions, I swear on my magic there is nothing wrong with them and that they are exactly what I have just told you so mote it be!"

There was a collective intake of breath from behind him and Pendragons face contorted with utter shock as magic swirled around Draco, setting his promise in magic.

Suddenly realizing what he'd just done Draco swept round and left the room knowing that the rest would follow but not wanting to give them or Pendragon any chance to question. When they reached the common room however, they were surprised to find the rest of their housemates already seated in the central semicircle, Menem and Professor Snape on the stairs in front of the exit.

Seating themselves right in front of the stairs with some of the first-year girls and a group of boys from one of the other first-year dormitories Draco tapped Pansy Parkinson on the shoulder and asked, "What is all this about?"

Pansy shrugged, "I don't know, although the mudblood girl didn't come back last night and she wasn't in bed this morning, I wonder if it's about that, though I can't imagine anybody is worried about her."

"Yes, that is probably it," Draco said with a sigh, "although, I already know where you're missing mudblood is, she spent the night in our room with her mudblood chum."

Pansy's eyes widened and she sneered, "I seriously suggest you get the room disinfected before you sleep in there tonight."

Draco growled at Pansy's accusation but for the life of him couldn't figure out why. To answer Pansy's surprised and questioning look he went on, "According to Pendragon they were –"

"Attention Slytherin's," Professor Snape called, cutting Draco off and gaining the silent attention of the room in one fell swoop, "I am sorry to announce a very dire situation has arisen within Slytherin. Last night two of our students were attacked by older members of another house."

At Snape's pronouncement, the whole common room burst into wide-eyed whispers until Snape's voice rose over them, "I know that you are all aware who Mr Mordred Pendragon and Miss Hermione Granger are and I know there is no love lost between you and them, but last night they did us the greatest service any member of our house can give. When they were walking back from the tea they were attacked by six older students from another house and repeatedly tortured for hours. The reason for this was the attackers wish to know the location and password of our common room, they wish to gain entrance to our most sacred space and because of the actions of Miss Granger and Mr Pendragon that information is still safe."

As the noise level rose in the common room Blaise climbed to his feet, and angry look on his face even has Draco tried to pull him down, "Come now people, use your heads!" He exclaimed turning round partly to face the rest of the house, "Do you really think it is such a coincidence that it was them that got attacked not one of us? Why would they keep our secrets, they have no reason whatsoever to feel any loyalty towards us, we have not treated them as our own. I have seen both Pendragon and Granger this morning with my own eyes and though I admit they looked tired they did not look as if they have been hurt in any way shape or form. They are simply trying to manipulate us into accepting them!"

When the sound level in the room rose, many people shouting outraged cries it was Menem's voice that cut through everyone with a resounding, "Silence!"

"I have seen the memory of what happened myself Mr Zambini," Menem said in a low voice that nonetheless carried to the rest of the students present.

"Isn't it obvious?" Blaise scoffed, causing Draco to question whether Blaise would not have been better placed in Gryffindor, his stupidity knew no bounds, "They faked it, it's a fake memory that they implanted in their heads to make us think we owe them a debt!"

Menem's eyes widened and he opened his mouth as if to start berating Blaise but Snape cut him off, "Mr Menem is not the only one that saw the memory Mr Zambini," he said in a low dangerous voice, his eyes piercing Blaise's, "Do you think that they could so easily trick _me_ into thinking a fake memory is real as Mr Menem?"

Blaise's brain seem to re-engage at that moment because his eyes widened and he shook his head furiously stuttering, "N – N – No – No Professor!"

Snape stared at Blaise for a moment longer, before he nodded his head, "Good," he murmured turning his attention back to the rest of the assembled students, "The fact that these attackers did not get what they wanted when they tortured Mr Pendragon and Miss Granger makes it very likely that this could happen again, to any one of you. Therefore I am issuing a rollcall to be taken every hour that you're not in class and everyone is to be back in the common room by eaight o'clock at which time the entrance will be locked."

Loud groans could be heard throughout the common room and one fifth year stood up asking, "Professor I'm not being disrespectful in any way, shape or form you must understand this, but don't you think these measures are a bit extreme? Do you think maybe you may be overreacting slightly Sir?"

Snape lifted an eyebrow and looked straight at the fifth year searchingly, "In all the years you have been here Mr Satori, when have I ever overreacted to a situation, if anything I have been under cautious because I trusted my Slytherin's could look out for themselves. I will not breach the trust I have from Mr Pendragon and Miss Granger by showing you the memory of what happened to them, but I assure you the torture those two first years went through last night is equal to what a lower tier Death Eater was capable of inflicting."

When the student nodded quickly and sat down Snape continued, "I am not asking you to like them, I am not asking you to talk to them, all I am asking is that you take this incident as a reminder of the cruelty the other houses are capable of. I am asking you to make sure that our secrets do not escape and to do that you have to look united as a house, a house which includes Miss Granger and Mr Pendragon. No more sitting apart from them when outside of this common room; first years, you will have to take the brunt of the responsibility in this instance. I'm not asking you to talk, I'm not asking you to interact, but am asking you to make it _look_ like you are. The mandatory register will be taken by placing your lips on the ring when it grows hot. To stop people from noticing this action the registration will be at a different time during the hour for everyone."

Professor Snape gave one last look around the common room at students before turning and sweeping out the entrance. In a flurry of movement everyone in the common room rose and also made their way towards the entrance.

"This is preposterous," Blaise growled, "I can't believe he expect us to hang out with… to interact with those worthless –"

"Blaise, to be quiet before you hurt yourself," Draco said sternly.

"Oh, and are you going to make me Draco?" Blaise asked in a sickly sweet voice, completely at odds with the sneer that was marring his lips.

At that moment, Draco lost his temper with the other boy and spun, hand stretching out to clamp around Blaise's throat as he pushed him back up against the wall.

"Yes Blaise," Draco whispered in his ear, making sure not to squeeze his hand too hard around the boy's neck, "because the fact of the matter is, since the mudbloods showed you up in class you have done nothing but instigate fights which you could not finish and I'm getting fed up with having to deal with the aftermath. This time Blaise, you'll do as Snape commands; you will shut up, you will sit next to the mudbloods at breakfast, you will walk with them to class and stand with them outside the classrooms, all the while smiling like you're having the time of your pathetic little life."

Letting go of Blaise's neck he turned to the rest of the first years, all of whom were watching him wide-eyed and shocked, "Anybody else have a problem with Professor Snape's announcement?"

Back in the dormitory Mordred was still looking at the two vials in his hands; with a sigh he decided that yes Malfoy was right and that he had to trust the boy. Uncorking one of the glass vials, he tipped his head back and allow the contents to pour into his mouth. Immediately his mouth began to burn and resisting the urge to spit it out he quickly swallowed and felt the fire fall into his stomach. After a moment of panicking that maybe Malfoy had given him some trick potion, he realised that as he was clutching his stomach every fibre of his being seemed to be far more alert than it had been before. As the burning started to subside he uncurled himself and stretched out his arms in wonder, feeling energy rush through him, every trace of sleepiness wiped from him.

Turning quickly, he opened the curtains to his bed and shook Hermione awake, "Drink this," he insisted, shoving stop the potion under her nose.

"What is it?" Hermione asked suspiciously as she took the potion and held the vial up to the light, her hand shaking slightly.

"_Bottled Sleep_," Mordred said, and then taking in Hermione's pale, almost green features, the large bags under her eyes and her shaking body he asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone ran over me with a bulldozer and then used me as a punch bag for a gang of raging baboons."

Mordred laughed, "Well if you feel that good then you'll have no problem coming to class with me!" he joked and once again motioned to the bottle in the girls hand sobering slightly, "Take that Hermione, it'll help I promise."

Hermione seeming to have forgotten about the bottle in her hand once again held it up, "Where did you get this?" she asked.

"Malfoy gave it to me," he said lightly but when her eyes widened in alarm he hurriedly continued, "He swore on his magic that it was safe Hermione."

Hermione looked up at Mordred in shock, "Why would he do that?" She asked in astonishment, "There is absolutely no reason for him to do something like that. I mean, granted you would not have accepted the vials if he hadn't, but…"

Mordred nodded in agreement, "I don't understand it either, maybe it was simply his reaction to my defiance, to make it so that I couldn't say no."

"You've taken it?" Hermione asked him, making sure he couldn't look away as her eyes bore into his. "You trust him," she whispered, her eyes widening in surprise. It was not a question, but a statement and it was said with such disbelief that Mordred immediately felt defensive.

"I wouldn't have," he said in a low voice, "I wouldn't have trusted him if he hadn't sworn the oath… but he did… and…" Words were lost to Mordred, he couldn't understand why he felt the way he did, couldn't understand this sudden rightness he felt about trusting the blonde.

With a sigh and an unhappy shake of her head Hermione tilted the vial in her hand towards her lips, swallowing the potion in one. At Mordred's astonished look she simply gave him a sad smile and said, "If you trust him Mordred, then I do too, for your sake."

When the two entered the Great Hall and made their way over to their house table the feeling of change was almost sentient; while the Slytherin's didn't look at them differently the change was visible in their positioning along the table. Before every Slytherin year group had sat together with not a single setting between them; an arrangement that had occurred at the welcoming feast when the Slytherin's had moved away from Hermione and Mordred, leaving at least ten place settings between the mudbloods and the rest of the house. Now there were spaces in between each year group, a clear definition about where each member of the house belonged.

Hermione and Mordred out the table warily, it was obvious where their seats were; they were still sat at the end of the table, but now there was no space between them and the rest of their housemates.

The change it seemed, had not gone unnoticed, it had caught the attention of the other houses as well. Snatched whispers of –

"… that's different…"

"… back to the old layout."

And, "… finally been accepted…" could be heard from the Ravenclaw table. One old Ravenclaw presumably a pureblood, could even be here to wondering aloud what on earth the Slytherin is the thinking letting the mudbloods have free rein in their house.

"What a drop in standard," the blonde boy exclaimed in a loud sarcastic tone, "there used to be such a _distinction_ between the purebloods of Slytherin and the rest of us mere mortals, guess in the end the pressure of their superiority complexes just got the better of them."

Laughter rang out and it wasn't confined to just the Ravenclaw table, Snickers could be here from all over the Hall as even some muggleborn's for Hufflepuff could be heard laughing at the Slytherin's expense.

To the surprise of many, the Slytherin's did not ignore the comments being thrown at the so called unworthy members of their house, but turned as one and glared at the Ravenclaw.

"We do not take kindly to members of our house being insulted Mr Rosalind," hissed a honey brown headed fourth-year witch.

"Yes Jacob, please be quiet;" came a calm yet clear voice from the Slytherin second year group.

"Arabella," Rosalind spat at the girl who had just spoken, "What is daddies Princess have to say now.

"Nothing really important dear brother mine," replied a small blonde haired girl as she locked hardened eyes with her older sibling across the room and rose to his feet which, though only gaining her a few inches, seemed to make her a very imposing figure in some strange way, "Merely that the rest of the family would be _quite_ put out if they knew you were holding a grudge and taking out your frustrations on the Slytherin's. Especially for something as simple as not being sorted into Slytherin house the way you thought you should be."

Rosalind looked like he was about to start screaming profanities at his sister, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"It isn't worth it Rosalind," the other Ravenclaw hissed in his ear and slowly managed to guide his friend to sit once again.

The drama over, everyone went back to eating and once breakfast was over Mordred and Hermione moved to get up, each glancing at the schedules, exchanging excited glances when they realised they had Divination.

"First years!" a prefect called, "Group one! Over here please!"

Mordred and Hermione looked round and made their way over to the class, waiting patiently for the prefect, a Jonah Walheart, if Mordred remembered correctly, to explain.

When everyone had gathered around him, Walheart made a motion to follow him with his hand and took off at a brisk stride out of the Hall.

About to move to the back of the group the way they normally would Mordred and Hermione were surprised to find their way blocked by Crabbe and Goyle; before any feelings of unease can enter their brains however Malfoy, at the head of the group turned and walked out. With the rest of the first-year class following him, Hermione and Mordred had little choice but to get ushered along in the middle.

This second startling change in the Slytherin attitudes toward the two lesser members of the house again did not go unnoticed. People from other houses were openly staring at them, and speculation varied widely from blackmail by the mudbloods to thanks by the Slytherin's for some good deed, (in theory not far from the truth).

"Oh come on Hermione," Mordred sighed, skipping just slightly to keep up the first years in front of them, "The _idea_ of divination is very interesting, but in practice…" He trailed off, looking at his friend with a shrug.

"I admit," Hermione panted slightly, as they made their way through the halls at a pace just that tiny bit too fast for little first-year legs, "There is a lot of speculation about divination on the whole, the problem is there are many people who think they have the sight, who delude themselves into thinking that they have the power to see into the future and back into the past, when in actual fact they don't."

"Either way, we have to assume that Dumbledore has hired a competent and genuine sear, we have no evidence to presume otherwise. So far all of the teachers have been good, even if that is not shown properly because of the mix of students within one class."

Hermione nodded, "True, I guess we'll just have to judge for ourselves."

Walking swiftly through the halls, it took the class ten minutes before they were stopped by Walheart at the base of the North Tower. With a rather malicious grin Walheart pointed to the set of staircase spiralling around the outside wall of the tower, "Take the staircase all the way up to the top."

So saying, Walheart turned on his heel and strode away from the tower and with disgusted looks at the prefects back the first-year Slytherin's starts to climb.

It was then that the sound of loud voices could be heard coming from the corridor they had just exited.

"Merlin, Morgana and Arthur," whispered Weasley as he looked up at the tower of stairs they had to climb, "We've got to get to the top of that?"

"What's the matter Weasley, so pathetic you can't climb a few stairs to the top?"

Weasley growled, "I could give you a hour head start and still get the top before you Malfoy!"

"You're on Weasley," Malfoy smirked.

"Only if you agree not to cheat Malfoy," Weasley insisted, holding out his hand "Wizards Bet!"

Malfoy hesitated for only a second, his eyes briefly flicking towards Mordred before he clasped Weasley's wrist as Weasley clasped his, "No cheating," Weasley intoned, tapping his wand to Malfoy's hand.

"Last to get the top has blue hair for a week," Malfoy counted tapping his own wand to Weasley's, "all first years in this group are witness."

No sooner had Malfoy said this than all the other first years suddenly found themselves at the top of the stairs.

"What happened?" Hermione questioned and to her surprise Baize Zambini answered

"A Wizards Bet requires witnesses to prove who won, in this case, the whole of our group are whitness."

Thirty minuets and one thousand seven hundred and twenty-one steps later the first-year Slytherin's were welcoming their fellow as he reached the top of the tower, "Merlin," Malfoy panted lightly, "I'm flying up here in third year."

With a vicious self-satisfied sneer crept onto Malfoy's lips and turning he made his way over to the railing to look down at the Weasley, face an unbecoming red and chest heaving, still only half way up.

Pointing his wand, Malfoy took aim and a bright blue light shot out the tip, hitting the Weasley directly on his crown and turning his hair cobalt blue.

"That should teach him to try and beat a Malfoy at anything," the blonde said turning back toward the Slytherin group and the small landing they were now occupying, his eyebrow rising in confusion as he took in the fact there were no doors. "And where exactly do we go from here?"

Smirking, Mordred pointed at the trap door in the ceiling and simply said, "Up"

Malfoy frowned, "Oh yes Pendragon, well done, but how do we get up there in the first place?"

Mordred shrugged and turned away from Malfoy, walking over to where Hermione was standing near the wall.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he reached her.

"There seems to be some sort of marking on this stone," was the only answer she gave as she peered closer at the stone. Mordred looked at the wall but he could see nothing and was about to say so as Hermione placed her hand on the wall.

Like a thunderbolt striking the tower the landing shook for a second, knocking everyone off their feet before going still.

"What was…" but Knott didn't finish as his eyes focused in on the rope ladder that now hung down from the trap door.

Wide eyed, Hermione made her way over to the ladder and curled a tentative hand around the wood. "After you mudblood," Pansy Parkinson said, as she walked over to inspect the ladder as well. Hermione huffed and with a shake of her head started climbing the ladder with Mordred hot on her heels, still not feeling quite safe around the rest of his classmates.  
At the top of the ladder Hermione and Mordred emerged into the strangest-looking classroom they had ever seen. In fact, it didn't look like a classroom at all, more like a cross between someone's attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. Everything was lit with a dim, crimson light; the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves. It was stiflingly warm, and the fire that was burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a huge array of teacups.  
"Well what now?" Mordred asked, turning towards Hermione as the rest of the class spread out into the classroom.  
"Now I welcome you," said a soft and rather dreamy voice from an armchair that was closest to the fire. "It is nice to have at least one true seer amongst you and one of considerable power if my wards are not mistaken. I will admit I was on the edge of letting the ladder down for you anyway."

Mordred looked at Hermione with wide amused eyes as the two took in their new Professor who had obviously been trying her hand at dramatic flair by using a disillusionment charm when they first came in.

"Come, please sit down children, there is much to talk about now that I have you here in the physical world."

The students shuffled into seats around tables, each with a the crystal ball in the centre as Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight. They saw that she was very thin; her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings.  
"Welcome to Divination," said Professor Trelawney, who was walking slowly around the room and peering at each student threw her huge magnifying glasses. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."  
Mordred and Hermione shared another amused smirk at this, both were starting to think that this was a lost cause of a subject with a professor like this teaching it.

Professor Trelawney delicately rearranged her shawl and continued, "So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you...Books can take you only so far in this field..."  
Mordred and Hermione frowned at each other, "But if that is true, surely we are wasting our time being here," Hermione said with a frown directed at their new teacher, "The percentage of true seer's is 1000. Even then, the chances that person being a seer of any true power is very slim, it's more common for a group of lower powered Sears to group together in order to boost their ability."

Professor Trelawney's gaze turned the towards Hermione in surprise, "You know facts very well child, but I can already tell you that you are not a true seer and therefore have very little place in this class."

Laughter rang out around the Gryffindor's as Hermione's mouth open slightly in surprise, but she recovered quickly and her eyes narrowed.

"How can you tell that Professor, simply by looking at me, I'll have you know that I am rather accomplished witch for a muggleborn."

"Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future," Professor Trelawney said, her eyes moving over Hermione in thinly veiled sympathy, "You may have, as you recited earlier some low powered talent that the fact that you are muggleborn exempts you from ever being a true seer. A seer born with enough power to work alone only comes from a build-up of latent magic which only occurs from a long line of magical breeding."

Surprise took over Hermione's face and in an unexpectedly even tone she replied, "I did not know that, and if that's the case then I truly don't have a place here in your classroom, I have no wish to become a seer that can only work her magic by working with others."

So saying, Hermione rose from her seat, making her way quickly towards the ladder and it took Mordred only a split second to decide to follow, surreptitiously swiping the small crystal ball from their table as he went.

"Where are you going boy?" Trelawney questioned as she saw Mordred leaving; Mordred tensed slightly, thinking he had been caught but then Trelawney continued, "I sensed powering you, you may be true seer, tell me what is your family name?"

Mordred slowly turned towards the Professor a sneer marring his face as he answered, "I have no family name, my last name is Pendragon, but as a _muggleborn_ I highly doubt I have the potential you seem to think I have. She think it possible that your senses a slightly out of whack?" With that final jab at his teacher Mordred turned swept down the ladder, the sound of laughter echoing behind him.

For the rest of what would have been divination Mordred and Hermione sat curled up in the library corner studying and it was only at the end of their period when Mordred finally brought the crystal ball out of his pocket.

"Mordred," Hermione exclaimed in amused surprise, "did you take that from Professor Trelawney's classroom?"

Mordred laughed, "I may have done, I mean Merlin Hermione, the woman thought I had seer potential and we both know I'm a muggleborn through and through. If that doesn't tell you how much of a joke that woman is I don't know what will."

Hermione laughed and held out her hand, "I wonder, shall I be able to see anything in the crystal ball?" She said playfully, but the moment the ball fell into her hand Hermione's face glazed over and her eyes turned white and her body started to tremble. With a piercing scream she dropped the crystal ball; her eyes were once again a clear piercing blue as they connected with Mordred's and Hermione was suddenly falling so fast it was all Mordred could do to reach out and stop her head from cracking against the hard stone floor.

Carefully resting Hermione's head down on the floor, Mordred have the inexplicable urge to grab the crystal ball from where it had fallen and stuff it into his pocket seconds before Madam Prince came hurtling around the bookshelves.

"What on earth happened here?" She asked frantically as she took in Hermione's prone form.

Mordred was already reaching into his pocket to pull out the orb and explain but again the urge not to do so reared its head and instead he said, "I don't know, one minute she was reading the next minute she stood up screamed, then… she's fainted."

Madam Prince narrowed her eyes at him and it was a long moment before she looked away with a nod, "Very well, then we need to take Miss Granger to the hospital wing." So saying, Madam Prince pulled out her wand and with a spell too low for Mordred to hear she sent a beautiful ghostly peacock tearing out of her wand and out of the library.

In slight shock Mordred stood waiting for he did not know what, silently fingering the orb in his pocket. It took a few minutes before Madam Pomfrey entered the library but as soon as she saw who was laying on the floor her eyes widened and she immediately crouched down beside Hermione. Running her wand over Hermione's body she mumbled under her breath, simple diagnostic spells first, from what Mordred could tell, but when one after another told her that Hermione was perfectly healthy, they started to become more specialist.

Eventually she stopped casting and sat up turning towards Mordred, "is she alright?" Mordred asked anxiously his hands clenching at his sides as he looked frantically between his friend and the nurse.

"Miss Granger is fine Mr Pendragon," Pomfrey said looking directly at Mordred, "at least physically she is, her mind however, it's in turmoil."

"What you mean?"

"Exactly what it said Mr Pendragon, her mind is in overdrive, it working far faster than it should and it seems to be changing in some way, it's quite astonishing but there seems to be very little I can do. The only thing I can suggest without a more thorough examination is to let her rest."

Mordred went to the rest of his classes in a daze, after taking Hermione to the hospital wing Madam Pomfrey insisted he go to class and let his friend rest. It was in this mind-set that he slowly made his way across the grounds of Hogwarts towards the small hut that was owned by the gamekeeper Hagrid for his first Care of Magical Creatures class.  
"C'mon, now, get a move on!" The giant called as the class approached. "Now as it is, Professor Kettleburn lost another limb the other day so I'm gonna be introducin you to Care a Magical Creatures. Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"  
The half giant lumbered off around the edge of his hut, skimming along the edges of the forbidden forest until five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.  
"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it - make sure yeh can see."

"Righ' then," said the half giant went on in an excited tone picking up a stack of envelopes, take one an pass um on, don't open um til I come back..."  
And so saying the half giant strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.  
"God, this place is going to the dogs," said Malfoy loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him -"  
Mordred, still not paying much attention simply rolled his eyes and propped himself up more fully on the fence he was leaning against.

"Oooooooh!" Squealed one of the Gryffindor girls, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock and causing everyone to turn and look.

Trotting toward them at a sedate pace were twelve stunningly strange looking creatures that Mordred couldn't keep his eyes off. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly, orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of the half giant, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

"Gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as a half giant reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hippogriffs?" Mordred asked in slight apprehension as he looked towards the half giant.

Surprise flitted through the man's eyes but then they were overtaken by D, "Right ya are Mr...?" The half giant trailed off.

"Pendragon," Mordred stated slowly

The half giant beamed brightly, "Well done Mr Pendragon, 10 points to Slytherin," he roared happily, waving a hand at the creatures. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

Mordred's mouth was slightly parted as he gazed at the creatures in front of him. They were just beautiful, they were stunning; each one seemed to have an aura of power surrounding it, and as his eyes locked with a huge black hippogriff who seemed to be the herds leader, Mordred felt himself drawn towards the paddock fence.

"So," the giant said, rubbing his hands together in undisguised glee as he looked from student to creature, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer..."  
For a second no one moved the then Mordred, eyes still locked with the black hippogriff felt a sudden tug. Stumbling forward Mordred found himself pressed against the paddock fence but just as his hand was about to reach out towards the black hippogriff the half giant grabbed his arm.

"Now Mr Pendragon, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is, they're proud," the giant explained. "Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs' move," he continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt."

"Now, yeh want ter go first?" He asked Mordred, who was already gazing back at the black hippogriff again.  
Without responding to the half giant, Mordred climbed over the paddock fence and made a beeline straight towards the black hippogriff, only to hear the slight intake of breath from half giant behind him.  
"Watch it Pendragon," roared the half giant. "That there's Silverbeak, an he don't take too kindly to umans."

Once again ignoring the half giant Mordred continued towards the creature at a steady pace until he was only a foot away.  
"Easy now, Pendragon," the half giant warned quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink...Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much..."  
Mordred couldn't have blinked if he had wanted to, Silverbeak's startlingly white eyes were piercing his like icy flames. With slow movements Mordred placed a hand at his front and back bending his torso as far as it would go without having to break eye contact.

The Hippogriff didn't move.

"Ah," the half giant said, sounding worried. "Right - back away, now Pendragon, easy does it -"

But then, in a flurry of sudden movement the black hippogriff bounded forward, pushing Mordred flat onto his back and pinning him with a huge claw. For a split second all was still as the hippogriff stared down at Mordred, but then a sudden flash of red light hit the hippogriff in the side causing it to stumble away from Mordred and onto the ground. Jumping to his feet Mordred looked around frantically and locked eyes with Malfoy who had his wand raised at a surprised look on his face.

Just then the black hippogriff seemed to stir and with it the rest of the herd seemed to tense. With a gulp Mordred bolted towards Malfoy, hurtling over the fence and dragging the blonde boy to his knees just as a heard of angry hippogriffs descended upon them. The panicked shouts of the half giant rang through the chaos as the rest of the class scattered.

"Stay on your knees Malfoy," Mordred screamed as the blonde struggled in his grip, "Didn't you hear the half giant, show the creatures respect or you could get trampled!"

Malfoy stopped struggling and went limp in Mordred's arms but it was a few minutes before the rumbling of hooves and the screaming stopped suddenly. A still silence reigned for another minute before Mordred felt a slight tug at his hair. Slowly raising his head his eyes again locked with those of the black hippogriff, as it looked between him and Malfoy. With a second bow of its head it gave a tug of Malfoy's hair, causing the blonde to look up at the hippogriff fearfully but it had already turned its attention back to Mordred. With a final snort it leaned forward and touched its beak to Mordred's forehead and the slight stinging pain erupted from the point of contact, causing Mordred to touch a finger to his forehead, coming away with blood.

Seemingly satisfied, the hippogriff turned back to Malfoy and gave the boy one last glare before turning around and walking away, slowly followed by the rest of the herd.

Mordred let out a slow breath, keeping his eyes trained on hippogriffs as he removed himself from where he had been holding Malfoy down. Almost immediately, the blonde scrambled to his feet and after a moment held his hand out to Mordred. Mordred hesitated for only a second before grasping it, but as soon as their hands touched light started to spill out from between their fingers.

Malfoy gasped again, and immediately pulled his hand back his eyes wide and horrified as he stared at Mordred. It was a moment later that a laugh rang out from behind them, causing the pair to turn just in time to see the Weasley double over with laughter.

"Malfoy's formed a Life Debt with Pendragon!" He wheezed out between hysterical laugh is, "Malfoy is indebted to a muggleborn!"

Like breaking the ice Weasley's words caused laughter to ring out among the purebloods and halfbloods while the Gryffindor muggleborn's just looked on confused.

Malfoy snarled and swung towards Mordred, "Did you do this on purpose Pendragon, you did didn't you!"

Mordred gaped, "I don't even know what a life debt is Malfoy!"

Malfoy looked at him for a moment, and his rage seemed to calm slightly. With a nod he turned and walked back towards the castle, the rest of the Slytherin's following behind.

_What just happened?_ Mordred thought to himself, shaking his head with a sigh and skittering past the Gryffindor's back towards the Castle and the infirmary where Hermione where Hermione had been moved to after the incident in the library. He pushed the doors of the infirmary open and his eyes zeroed in on the bed Hermione lay in, but she was not alone. Professor Dumbledore was there his eyes glazed and his red wand pointed at Hermione.

"Hey! What are you doing?" He exclaimed, coming into the infirmary fully and making his way over to the bed where Dumbledore had just started out of his daze and looked at Mordred in surprise.

"Mr Pendragon, what is that racket you're making?" Came a female voice from behind him and Mordred turned to see Madam Pomfrey bustling out of her office.

Mordred growled and turned back toward Dumbledore, "Excuse me Professor, but are you a trained mediwizard?"

Dumbledore frowned, "No, but I –"

"Then forgive me Sir," Mordred said in a sarcastic tone, "but I don't think you have any business casting spells on a patient in the hospital wing without Madam Pomfrey present."

Dumbledore's eyes widened in Madam Pomfrey looked between the two in confusion, "Albus?" She asked when the old man didn't refute boys claims.

"I was simply looking over Miss Granger Poppy," Dumbledore said in the soothing voice, "Simply one of the diagnoses spells you cast on Miss Granger earlier, nothing to worry about."

Mordred's eyes narrowed, that was not one of the spells Madam Pomfrey had used earlier, none of the healing spell she had cast need contact with Hermione's forehead.

Madam Pomfrey seemed to accept Dumbledore's answer with a nod, she still frowned and said anyway, "Be that as it may Albus, I agree with Mr Pendragon, it would be best if you do not cast any spells on my patients without me being present."

Dumbledore seemed to take this answer in stride, "Yes of course Poppy," he said with a slight bow and a smile towards the Mediwitch, "Please forgive my intrusion I was only trying to help. Either way, I must be off, have a good day both."

Mordred watched the old man go with ill concealed mistrust, but Madam Pomfrey didn't seem to notice as she turned to Hermione and cast a few diagnostic spells around. She sighed, "Still the same I'm afraid Mr Pendragon."

She turned walking back into her office and Mordred took a seat beside his friend, "Come on Badger," Mordred whispered, soothing back a lock of her hair.

As if they were the magic words Hermione's eyes flew open and she gave a huge gas, sitting up and looking around her frantically.

Mordred almost fell off his seat in surprise and turned shouting towards Madam Pomfrey's office that Hermione was awake. The mediwitch came bustling out caffeine frantic diagnostic spells towards the girl as she walked. However after half an hour of casting she sighed and shook her head in puzzlement, "You seem perfectly fine Miss Granger, I cannot find anything physically or mentally wrong with you. Stay tonight under observation and if you are all right in the morning you can go back to class, but for now I want you to take this," she said handing over a powerful vial of what Mordred identified as dreamless sleep potion, "And you Mr Pendragon, I want you to go back to your common room for the library and stop pestering my patient."

Mordred looked towards Hermione confirmation that he should leave and she shrugged helplessly as if to say what can you do, "I'll see you in the morning Mordred," she said eventually. With one last worried look at his friend Mordred nodded and left the infirmary, going straight to the library, he had a few things he needed to look up.

Review?


End file.
